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I’m not an alcoholic, but earlier this week, this part of “The Serenity Prayer” helped calm me down a little bit:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

I will admit I have been rather concerned about The Lovely and her grandkids, who also happen to be my godkids. Part of me knows that, to quote Shawn Mullins, “everything’s gonna be all right,” but there are no certainties in this life, really, and so, when upheaval strikes, sometimes I find myself trying to tune out everything in hopes of finding the answer somewhere within.

Doesn’t always work, and sometimes I, like most people, find that being inside my head can be a dangerous place.

And sometimes not!

Anyway, a few minutes ago I crawled into bed, covered up, and almost immediately had a memory of Kameron from the first time we took him to Key West. He was walking then, but he wasn’t quite a year old, and every night around 8 o’clock or so, he would hit what we called The Delirium Stage — basically, he started acting kinda nutty, mostly because he was trying to keep himself awake.

On New Year’s Eve, his parents went out, and Diane and I stayed at the condo with Kameron, watching movies. On that night, he didn’t get too “delirious”; in fact, he climbed up on the couch and fell asleep in just a few minutes.

Or so we thought.

Diane asked me if I could carry him into the bedroom without waking him up. I said I’d try, and as I knelt down next to the couch to lift him, he opened his eyes.

And he just started LAUGHING! (I was afraid he’d start crying.)

It was one of my favorite moments ever.

Why does it seem so long ago? Kameron’s not even 5 yet.

1. I like to think I am pretty good at handling criticism.

2. I believe that handling criticism would be relatively easy if an occasional compliment were given. Ever.

3. I am not very good at handling criticism.

Pomeranian

Happily, it is rather difficult for me to stay annoyed when, as I am retrieving garbage bags and toilet paper (!!) from the ice-covered trunk of my car, I get “threatened” by my neighbor: a Pomeranian whom I had not yet met!

Then, once inside my house, I find a very sweet, handmade — with the help of Mom’s ultra-fancy computer program — Valentine from my parents. Mom even used a stamp that has a hummingbird drinking from a hibiscus!

(I do not remember my mom ever criticizing me. I am certain she must have, somewhere along the line, but I really do not recall it ever happening. I am certain, too, that she is a far better mother than I am a daughter.)

August 2017
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