MY GRANDMOTHER AND ME IN PARIS

My Dear Friends and Readers,

A couple of nights ago I dreamt that I was in Paris with my Grandmother and my Mother. There are two things that I distinctly retained from  this dream.  One was my  image of my elegantly dressed grandmother as she  peered out of a window from our Paris hotel. She wore a mohair coat that was golden at the shoulders and collar and then gradually darkened to a moss green  hem. The second element of the dream that stayed with me was that I  had an apartment in Paris!

When I awoke from the dream, I knew that it was an important dream. My grandmother died almost 30 years ago, but she was the most significant person in my life. Her unwavering love for me overcame, overcomes any bad that has happened to me. She is my talisman. She sang into my ears and into my consciousness that “I would have music where ever I went.”

During this dreary spring of rain and tornadoes and Donald Trump, at times I have had not heard the music.  I became unfocused and drifted into complaining.  I   was complaining because I was doing things that I felt I should do, but didn’t want to do. I  did not say no, but  I performed my tasks as if they were drudgery.  I did nothing. I did not take action. I did not make requests. I was cranky.

The truth is that  I do not have a lot of practice in asking for my space. I don’t tell my handsome boyfriend  that I don’t have time for that block buster movie. In fact I don’t tell him to go to his home, so that I can enjoy mine by myself. I get cranky.

It’s taken me a long time to learn how to choose myself over competing wants and needs and loved ones, but I am getting better. As I maneuver my way into the solitude of writing, I am at peace and I feel that I am doing what I was meant to do.

On too many days in the recent past,  I have forgotten to  seek the beauty. I have failed to see the sun in the grayest of days. I  have failed to be my best self- and I didn’t care that I had. For me, this is a place of disquiet. I right myself. I remember  why I love the man that sometimes I want to choke. I remember the beautiful kind people that are in my life and that make my life.

My fingers touch the computer keys and that in itself centers me and forces me to choose each word so that it rings with truth.  I seek a personal truth and take you on the journey with me. Thank you for joining me.

I will try ever day to laugh more and love more. I will choose only that which truly fulfills me and  ignore that which does not work.  This is life. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Signed,

Brianna S. Clark
The Addict Writes

 

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