By now you, kind reader, know I’m an avid journaler—one sentence, a poem, a few paragraphs, very occassionally three pages—every day. What I may not have shared is that, egotistical perhaps, my custom is also to read past entries daily, those from a year ago, a month ago, a week ago and yesterday.
Apparently last year at this time, I called several folks on my list (of 70!) from the cathedral to encourage them to come to the parish dinner to celebrate our capital campaign. The wild thing was, though I didn’t know it at the time, I completed this task three days before my mother died. At least I decided to only call the 25 or so I knew on said list (which is what I agreed to do, after all, but then was sent a list of 70—ah, volunteer work is something, isn’t it?) In another life I might have powered-through every one of them even with my mother on her deathbed. Lord, silly me!
Next I’ll tell you about visits with Mom since then. Maybe. This is me warming up to it. Stay tuned.
Always Bridging 