Good morning from Adelaide, where yet again it is deliciously cool. The summer sun is shining in a clear blue sky, but the ferocity of the blistering heat it not with us at this time - it is truly beautiful. It is lovely to stand hanging washing out and feel a gentle breeze embrace me.
Laundry days are much easier now the children have grown and there are no sports uniforms to wash and school uniforms to press. I miss the piles of laundry though - I miss the socks, I miss the skirts and shorts and the changing of the sizes which would remind me that my little brood was growing up. I would peg out the socks and think of each child and hope and pray their feet would carry them on safe pathways. When winter came and it was laundering winter woolies, I would think and pray that they would always be warm and safe. Each child's specific needs would cross my mind and I would hold them close.
Those days when the whole hockey team uniforms came home to be washed, because my little star had said "My Mum will wash them" are clear in my mind and I loved the "flags" flying in the breeze.
Then of course there were the "odd" socks - just where that other one went never failed to amaze me but we had an "odd sock basket" and each school holidays we would gather round and try to sort them in pairs. It was fun and we did achieve sometimes, but always there was that little lonely odd sock.
Wow - I have taken a detour here and gone way off track from what I intended to write today, but I think I can steer my thoughts back to my plan.
The quote at the top of the page about scars and healing was my focus for today - we all have scars (some much bigger than others) and they are badges on honour for what we achieved and should be worn with pride They tell the story of the difficulties we have overcome.
Today it is my day for sorting my medication into daily doses and this takes awhile and like with the socks, I use the time as thinking time. I think of my Donor, the man who gave me the gift of life by donating his organs and I was the blessed recipient of his liver. I think of him and his life and his family and how that every day of celebration for me is a celebration of a totally different kind for them. I am thankful for every day of life that is mine and I correspond with his wife sometimes and she assures me "he will be looking down from heaven smiling that you are doing so well." I have named my liver
"OLIVER" and Oliver and I are getting along famously and I am thankful.
I am thankful too for the wonders of modern medicine and the drugs available to keep me from rejecting my gift and although there are a lot of them - I take them willingly and happily.
Some photographs of medication sorting time for you - for those familiar with transplant these will be ordinary and a very familiar similar scene.
It is part of my routine of the "new normal" - a routine where I can take one days supply with me or a whole week or more - all sorted ready to just "pop the pills" and again I am thankful.
Thank you for visiting the Musings from my Heart and for coping with the detour my mind took us on today. Wear your scars with pride (whether they are physical or emotional scars) let them fade with time and be proud of the journey you have taken. Be strong and be brave.
My heart is peaceful and thankful on this lovely Tuesday.
Love and hugs,
These are very useful and bring lots of smiles.