Sunny Days

I’m always fascinated by the way my husband’s mind works. If there is something to worry about, a loved one’s health, for instance, he will quietly worry. But the constant, everyday crazies that I get, he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get anxious, or claustrophobic, or worried that the plane we’re on is going down. he doesn’t fret, or stew, or brood over what might have been, or what horror might be lurking around the next corner. The fact that he’s only 13 years younger than my mom? Hilarious! I envy that. The smile he almost always wears, the way he can miss something he had with a minimum of regret, and move on. I’ve been working with a therapist online, (Online!  It’s either brilliant or ridiculous!), and I’m starting to see that all the fear and doubt and shame and regrets are like storm clouds in my head, always blocking out the sun. I can’t change the past. I can’t go back to my twenties when I was always dieting and say, “You are not FAT! Ya wanna see fat? Look ahead 30 years!”  Or “Listen to your father! Put $5 in the bank every week! ”  We all make choices, we settle, we win, we lose, we live, we learn.  And we can’t predict the future. All we can do is laugh and love and dance and work hard and change what we can and live with what we can’t, smiling, with our face to the sun.


Here Comes the Sun

carynjune

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