"You are defined by your actions."
It hit me hard, that one.
If I am defined by my actions, what does that mean? It means I don't like that definition very much. I don't like the "me" I see in the mirror, through the eyes of others, or in the way I keep house. It's that simple.
So I decided this weekend that things needed to change. I know, I've decided that eleventy bazillion times over my lifetime and failed at it eleventy bazillion times, but there's always that slim hope that somehow, something will stick.
I started with the housekeeping part - the bedroom in particular. I went through it with a fine-toothed comb, cleaning where mere mortals have feared to tread before. I sacked up clothes to be given away, items to be sold in the sale at Mom's, and trash. I dusted, vaccuumed, polished and waxed. I de-spotted the carpet. I unloaded the floor, dresser and chest. I took down the curtains to be washed. I reorganized, putting away or giving away all the clothing that was on the ironing board and various other places throughout the room. Hubster helped with his side of the room, and by the time I went to bed it looked like a normal bedroom again instead of something hit by a blast from the Spanish Armada.
And behold, it was good.
My actions tonight will define me as a last-minute Christmas shopper. While we have the grandchildren taken care of, we only have one gift for three of the older children. That will have to be remedied in a hurry. Sis is taken care of, but her husband and two sons are not as of yet. MIL still needs a gift. And there are the odd great-nieces and great-nephews yet to buy for.
Not that they're odd, it's just that they're here and there...
And this past weekend I started to be redefined as a friend again. Something I haven't been able to be to HeyJules for the past six months or so. We had coffee on Saturday, our first since May..or was it April? It was so good to catch up and talk with her. I've missed her so.
On the other hand, I've been defined as stubborn and tempermental with my dear friend Linds. I popped off at her last week in a fit of anger at myself. LINDS, of all people! My deepest apologies, Linds. I'm not ever going to get used to this grief thing, I fear. I want so much to be completely over the weeping part of it! I can handle everything but the constant crying. It's abysmal.
Yes, that would be the definition of stubborn. And prideful, I think. Kitti? What's your take?
And so, here we are on a cloudy Monday. Tomorrow is Tuesday, then there's Christmas Eve and Christmas. Without Mom.
So we'll redefine that as well.