Okay, so I never quite finished the August Moon prompts. Who knows -- perhaps I will. I think a lot of this year's prompts didn't quite hit me where I live now at the age I am, although I could see how they would be great for someone who is mid-career and thinking of changes.
But let's start again with Reverb 14, writing prompts looking back at 2014 and ahead to 2015, and see if I can maybe stay with the program. Actually, there are two prompts I intend to respond to this year -- the talented Kat McNally's prompts, and those from the Meredith, Kat, and Sarah at Project Reverb.
Do you remember what Reverb 14 is? You can participate, and here are some good reasons to do so. See the signup link within that post.
And here is the info on Project Reverb.
Take your choice, or do both. Either way you're going to learn something about yourself!
For December 1, the first day of the last month of 2014, this is the first prompt: What can you say right now with certainty?
Prompt 2: At the start: Where did you start 2014? Give us some background on this year.
What I can say right now with certainty is that I am alive and here, and reasonably able-bodied. This year I have continued to take steps to improve my health through a cardiac ablation (so far, 3+ months later, I am still normal sinus rhythm, far as I know, although a heart monitor I've worn for two weeks will confirm that -- part of the followup visit), and will have some of the hardware removed from the ankle fusion I had two years ago early in the new year because it has been painful at least some of this year and has made it difficult to walk much or well.
It could all be better, but oh, it could be so much worse, and I am working to recover some flexibility, strength, and mobility, and to continue to practice healthy habits. What we do in our younger years comes back to us in our later ones. I didn't understand that. (I wouldn't have paid much attention anyway. At that age you think you'll live forever and be able to rebound from poor choices. Huh.)
I can say with certainty that I adore my husband and am so glad he adores me back. It just doesn't get better than that. Being in a deeply committed, loving relationship where both people want to take care of the other is more than I'd ever dreamed it would be, and I am so grateful for it, and for him. Both of us have been in other relationships: this is the real deal. This is the kind everyone wants and so rarely gets.
I can say with certainty that I like my life and who I am. I am grateful for every day, for the friends I have and cherish, for our home and land, for enough food, enough money, enough of everything. I didn't always feel this way. I continue to learn more about myself and to grow.
I can say with certainty that I am happy to be alive and learning and loving and growing, Still. Yes. At my age.
2014 began with my daughter making a decision to come out of a horrible, nightmarish relationship and living situation with help from health professionals who cared about her, and the county's adult protective services, and from me. She has been living by herself in a sweet little apartment with her two kitties and her money is managed by a company, not by me, which has improved significantly the time we spend together and the quality of our relationship. She no longer has a car and takes the bus or walks to where she needs to be, or she gets rides from friends and from me. She is in another relationship but he has his own place, and they seem to be good for each other. It is not all perfect, but it seems to work at least for now.
And I have learned, finally, I hope, that her life is not mine to manage. That she will make her own decisions and that the consequences of those decisions are not in any way my problem to deal with, nor can I make it mine. As a result, my stress level is significantly less. WAY less. Both of our lives are vastly improved, and I am grateful for that. Letting go is the hardest lesson I have ever had to learn.
That situation had colored so much of last fall and winter for me, and I had worked hard to draw healthy boundaries for myself, and to allow her to deal with her living situation on her own. When she was able to ask for help, we could be there to offer it. It was a huge lesson. I am sure I'm not done yet, but I'm better.
Over those first months too, my atrial fibrillation became more frequent, and my cardiologist recommended an ablation, saying I was the 'perfect' candidate. Since my activities had been somewhat curtailed by the increase and the quality of my life had deteriorated -- in afib, I felt anxious and unwell, and the episodes tired me out -- I finally agreed.
Clearly there is more to tell. But that's where I began this year. And I can say that my life has gotten better as the year has progressed. May that continue.