Repetitive repeats

I have been writing long enough now that I think it is time I let you know something.
I am old. I have raised ( am still trying to) 4 very diverse daughters (and 2 cats) who are all now very settled into double digit years. That makes me old and on some days, that makes me older than age. Older- than- age people, such as myself, carry an odd balance of life equipment. That is to say that while in some ways, I carry an abundance of experience- the experiences that have landed heavy on my shoulders, have also drawn out and drained my brain cells.

So, although I may be filling the hollows of my life with time- tested wear and tear, I am leaking out droplets of clarity, logic, memory at the very same time. Just so you know.

I believe it is entirely possible that I may tend to repeat myself in story thoughts as I do in talking with my girls. My oldest likes to look at me with a warm fuzzy smile and kind eyes because she is patient that way. Another child is still at the late teen age where she doesn’t hear what I say whether it is the first time or the 5th, so any copy- cat comments go un noticed; they are thrown in the laundry basket with first time questions and such.

Another daughter said to me one day, “ I think you have 4 of us to share and talk with and unless you send out a weekly newsletter it might be hard for you to recall who knows what and I know you are very big on communication, and you want to keep all of us on the same page, in the same loop, so I’ll just tell you if you already told me that, okay?” One daughter and I have a code. She taps her nose if she’s already heard the tale. Like I said, I’ve grown a diverse cackle of hens. So, if over time, I bring about the same point over and over again, just remember that this church chick is leaking brain matter. Or- you can tap your nose.

On the other hand, I am beginning to think that it is exactly this combination of time and leakage that makes for a true blue and long lasting church chick. The people I work with feel like family. Sometimes they act like family. Sometimes they act like siblings. The congregation too, is one large family. I love that. I love them. The workplace here is a nice mix between home and not- quite home. Sometimes I leave home in the morning, overwhelmed by the day to day challenges of single parenting and life in general. On those days, I am so happy to walk into the doors of this church because I know that there won’t be any laundry left in my path, and there won’t be any notes to sign and there won’t be a dishwasher to unload again and, I don’t have to change the sheets here, either. I am relieved of the duty of making sure curfew is met, and I don’t have to worry about where everyone is hanging out because I see them here in the hall.

Other days, when the pressure pot is boiling at work, and important things didn’t get done, or were rattled around, I am glad to leave and I am glad to enter the cathouse. It works out swell. The perspectives of each partner up really well. Best buds you might say.

So, other than babble and letting you know that my thoughts can be circular, there is no real reason for this edition of the chronicle. Oh- I guess there is one more thing. I have grown to love sharing here. When time does not allow, I miss unpacking the life and times of church life here. For those of you who let me know I’m overdue writing- thank you. It means a lot to be missed.