Heartwings says, “Being grateful for small victories is better than complaining about any losses.”

I’ve read that one of the first skills a child learns is to let go. They must be born with the instinct to hold on, as any mother with long enough hair knows. It makes sense, because they need o hold onto their mothers or anything else to keep from free falling into danger. Once they learn to let go, they delight in doing it. I remember my little ones sitting in the family high chair gleefully dropping things onto the kitchen floor.

We all grow up and learn various skills that serve us until the day they don’t. I clearly remember learning to tie my shoes. My dear nurse Emily had me stand bent over my shoes until I learned to do it. I was in nursery school, aged three, perhaps almost four, depending on the time of year. Called the Woodward School, it had blue double doors. I can see them still.  My finger dexterity was never to become perfect, however I did get good enough to tie laces or untangle knots, until one day I developed Parkinson’s and the dexterity dwindled.

I remember how difficult it was in first grade trying to improve my penmanship. In time I managed to learn to write at least reasonably well, until once again, Parkinson’s took over and unless I focused very carefully my handwriting would shrink more and more as I wrote a sentence. However, I did find that by printing rather than using cursive that my writing shrank less. The ability to focus and write slowly has enhanced the clarity of my handwriting, and this is something for which I am grateful. It is a small victory in the midst of abilities that without my being able to stop doing so, are beginning to fade.

I have had to give up the pride I once took in skills I had worked on and developed. Being able to do things I once took for granted as accomplishments has transmogrified into taking pride in the smaller victories I am able to manage. I had a teacher who once said, “Rather than lament that roses have thorns, be glad that thorns have roses. I remember that the roses in my father’s garden had large thorns yet they smelled wonderful. Often the roses of today have no thorns to speak of, yet they do not have much of a scent either. Still, they are lovely.

While I have lost some of the abilities of which I was once so proud, I have gained others for which I am grateful. I have become more patient because I must be, otherwise I would be all too frustrated. Being patient with myself means I am able to be more patient with others. I have also become more compassionate, and now I have more compassion for others and am more forgiving. While these could be considered small victories, they are also big steps in being more comfortable with myself and kinder, and by extension, with others as well.

May you remember to take pleasure in your personal victories no matter how small.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS I so appreciate any comments you may have to share, or stories of your own victories. It always warms my heart to hear from readers. Thanks for sharing. Please write me at tashahal@gmail.com. For more love notes, see my website at www.heartwingsandfriends.com.

Heartwings says, “When you take note of the milestones, you know how far you have traveled.”

I remember my mother when she was in her late eighties shaking her head and saying, “How did I get to be this old?” Now I am celebrating my eighty-seventh birthday and thinking and saying the identical words. Years, decades, days have melted and become one past without much definition. Where did the time go, and how did it pass so quickly? As one friend of mine often says, “Beats me!” It seems as though each day or even week slips into the past and immediately shrinks or dwindles to practically nothing. Perhaps I’ll write a poem about that. I’ve written lots of poetry on the theme of time and all that pertains to it.

 I’ve considered collecting the poems into a chapbook, if I can somehow carve out the time it takes to discover, select, design, and proofread them for the pages. I suppose I could, yet my days are pretty full as it is with cooking, doctor’s visits, and taking care of the needs of the moment. I do no cleaning fortunately, because I have a wonderful person for that. Stephen helps when he can with what he can, for which I am also grateful. These daily doings, the minutiae of life blend themselves into my time so seamlessly I find it difficult to catch hold of any part of a day without using considerable effort.   

Sometimes I try to locate the year such-and-such happened and shake my head and sigh. I can’t find any landmarks to tie it to. There are some important milestones, however that do stick in my memory, and I am grateful for them: My high school graduation, the year Stephen and I met and the year we married, my children’s birthdays and those of other family and friends. I have two Birthday twins though only by date of course. I did mark one recent birthday with a zoom party—my eighty fifth, so people in Italy and those in California could both attend without traveling. I like to celebrate birthdays–mine, and that of others. I believe it is important to mark the years as they pass.

At one time I remember I thought fifty was old. Now someone fifty is to me in the prime of life. I can recall my mother saying “When I was in my fifties, I could do anything.” I could say the same now. The hourglass that marks my time has lots more in the bottom than it did then, and my personal, physical self is commensurably unavailable. Yet I can make the most of whatever time remains to me, and that is my task these days. I will explore the potential for doing that and then at least I may find it easier to mark the milestones on the highway of my days.

May you find many fine milestones to enjoy as your days and years pass.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS I always enjoy your comments and your questions as well as your suggestions. Please write me at Tashahal@gmail.com. Read more Love Notes at www.heartwingsandfriends.com.