Monday Morning

By Hazel Williams-Jann

Guest writer Hazel Williams-Jann lives in London, Ohio and loves to write. We appreciated this article so much we asked for her permission to include it here. We hope you enjoy it.

Monday morning! Yep, it is the beginning of another work week, at least for those who work. It is the day that is mentioned with dread by many. But for me it is with pleasure and a smile that I begin the day.

You see, I have been away. And you ask, away from where? Well, let me tell you. The me I feel most comfortable with has been hiding somewhere deep within this frame. This seemed to happen very slowly , but happen it did. The me of the past six months crept around, lurking here and there in the form of a stomachache, or a knee that ached so badly I had to hold onto banisters to walk up and down stairs with great effort. As well I used a cane to walk on even ground. Inclines and declines were avoided whenever possible. Sleep, yes, I slept albeit fitful most of the time. I could not stay awake. Many days. I would get out of bed, walk to the bathroom and decide the effort of facing another day was just not worth trying.

During this time I had come to the conclusion that houses are similar to people. It is a fact that the ears on either side of our heads never stop growing for our entire life. The older we get, the bigger our ears become. I was sure this happened with my house as well. I used to be able to clean my little home in one day, but as I have gotten older it takes longer, two maybe three days. Thus my assessment that houses grow with age as well.

The comfortable me wanted to crawl out from under the bondage of the weakened shell it was in, but nothing seemed to help. I know pushing back from the table was probably a good thing as well as the losing a few pounds. Even that was not the old me. I love to cook, but that too was no longer on my agenda. I have to smile as I think of the firemen who occasionally came around to check on me. Well, I am sure they don't do that for everyone, but then everyone does not bake pies, muffins and an occasional pot of soup for them either. They too were missing the old me.

My return began slowly about two or three weeks ago. I had a day that I felt well and did not need to take a four hour nap in the middle of my day. I sat in my kitchen and prepared a bushel of tomatoes for canning. I canned fifteen quarts, made fifteen pints of salsa and canned ten pints of rhubarb. I think that is the squirrel in me coming out. When the cicadas start calling I feel a strong need to prepare for winter. I have no need for all of these canned goods for my own personal use, but there are others who benefit from my built-in farmer traits. That is where I find my pleasure.

Last week more good days appeared. The old me seemed to be showing up more often now. It took me two days, but I actually cleaned my entire house! I did not have to have the help of a grandchild to get things in order. I had a smile on my face the entire time. To me work is a good thing. I still have this niggling mind set that my worth comes from doing. In my heart I know that is not true; God would love me if I did nothing but acknowledge Him. So, I work. I do things for others. That is where my joy begins and it is a command from God.

I went to church yesterday morning toting my tasty banana nut muffins to place beside the coffee pot in the nursery. I got hugs and smiles from an array of hungry parents. They too seemed happy the old me had emerged from the abyss. Why, I even had the energy to put on my face paint before leaving home. That helped alleviate that washed out look that had taken over for months. I had been conserving what energy I possessed for more pertinent things, like making my bed.

Yes, I have been away for months; it has actually been half of a year. I was beginning to think this was a lifestyle that had encompassed my body due to old age. But, inside, in my mind I didn't think old. It was just my body trying to tell me life had passed me by. Try as I might I could not shake loose from my chains. And then the light came through the window of my soul once again.

I may be 70 years old, but sitting in a rocking chair watching soap operas is just not my style. I like to do things, I like to see people, I love to do things for people. I struggled, I whined, I researched. Yes, I even searched on the Internet to see what could be causing me to, all of a sudden, age at such a progressive pace. I decided to try herbal remedies that had helped others in my category instead of the drugs prescribed by the doctor. I know he meant well, but his ideas were not working. Vitamins and natural healing agents put on this earth by a loving God slowly brought me back to the me I like. Now, don't get me wrong; there are some of the medications prescribed by my doctor that are still counted out and placed in a long, blue plastic container with cubbies for each day of the week. These are now enhanced by natural healing agents and a bit of change in my diet, minus a few prescription medications.

Ah, yes, Monday morning. What a treat. The sun is shining. The crisp fall air is lingering at the open windows. The washer is busy, a pot of beans is bubbling on the stove, and I am feeling great! The firemen are enjoying the muffins I made yesterday. My bed even looks happy covered with freshly laundered linens with that fresh from the clothesline smell. I don't feel the need to crawl under the blankets because my energy has been zapped by the passing of a few hours.

Yes, it is Monday morning. I am looking forward to this week with anticipation of enjoying the fall season with a spring in my step, a song in my heart and welcoming the old me back in place.