Happy Hands

Aida cloth having arrived in yesterday’s mail, my hands are once again happily involved with a project.

My eyes, on the other hand, are not pleased with me at all.

The eyes have been angry for a long time because, due to budget constraints, I’ve been wearing prescription eyeglasses that are years and years and years outdated. First thing on my todo list, when that windfall kicks in, is to reward the eyes for hanging in there so long with a visit to optometry.

I’m looking at three pairs – one for the computer, one for reading/needlepoint, and progressive lenses for when outside (driving, walking, pokémon hunting).

Being unproductive for a few days hasn’t been too difficult an adjustment. I whittled down recorded television programs, watched the grass grow and listened to myself try to figure out do I put myself first, or do I once again put others first.

One would think that after so many years of hurting myself emotionally and financially by being there for others, who I know without a doubt I cannot count on to be there for me, I’d have learned my lesson and there would be no question as to who’s first.

It’s just so difficult to not step in when I become aware a family member is struggling.

All this thinking, as to whether to provide for my future, or dig a family member out from the hole created by their well-meant decision, has pushed me to sugar in the form of Girl Scout cookies and ice cream.

If I had an idea of how long I’m going to live, it would make the decision-making process so much easier. If I’m looking at less than five more years of life, I could cover the both of us, and even leave something behind for others. If it’s to be, God forbid, 10, 15 or, even worse, 20 years, with no one to count on, I'm going to have made smart choices for myself.

I need a glimpse into the future.

For years, I had a Shaman who could do just that.

He passed away in 2014.

I’m really missing him now.