The Night Before

It is the night before I have to take the pup in for her spaying. My nerves are a bit rattled as I try to keep myself calm and prepare her for tomorrow. I am always worried anytime someone has a surgery, pets, friends, family. It is challenging for me, as so many things have become routine now, yet I still see it as a new medicine, as if it is the first time it is being performed.

My thinking has at times challenged me over and over. I feel archaic from another time, yet modern in some aspects of my life. It makes me question if I was born in the right time. I know what you are thinking, odd duck, this woman is.

Do you ever feel when you say something, the things you like, the music, the phrases you say, that maybe, just maybe, they are your past life? I wonder? Is it possible?

We modernize our phones to sing, dance, do just about anything, we perform surgeries that at one time the thoughts of it never existed; man has created cures for diseases over and over, yet some still have not been found; we build space ships, technology by leaps and bounds, and see anything as a possibility.

If all of this is possible, could it be a possibility that I am born into the wrong time, that my soul is old and has seen so much before, that my life may have been rich of alternative memories before this one?

I have talked about the old souls before, when the pup and I met, my girl growing up and at times people I meet. It is, as if I knew them from somewhere else, and when they look at me I feel as if I already have a connection to them, a bond, a déjà vu moment.

That connection tells me so much inside at that moment, at times it tells me things I really don’t want to hear or am not surprised later when it takes place, it as if I had already known it, felt it. I laugh and say it’s my witchy coming out.

I wonder if it is the energy we give off that sparks that or is it just a regular human connection? It is an area I need to spend more time researching and pondering on.

As my thoughts had me venturing down the rabbit hole, I opted to head outside as I stood there watching the pup run free and jump. The crispness of the air brought a shiver to me, and I wrap my arms around me, as the sky begins to spit once more.

The neighbour’s tree still holds on to  apples, hanging onto the branches, now turning into a rich Crimson color. The plants have stopped blooming and I am watching them all, go to sleep for a long winters nap. I decide I should look at each of my plants and see if there are any seeds, I can take off for next year. As I am taking pieces inside to dry, I think about life in general.

I have been thinking a lot about it, as my father turns 80 next month and I know that each additional day, week or year are a blessing, to still see him. Just as the cycle of life comes to an end, like the blooms of the flowers, the seeds are there to renew and to begin new life. My daughter, one of a few grandchildren is the new seed,  the children having children; I cannot stop thinking about where I am in life, how my body keeps getting older and how one day I will become the blooms time to go to sleep.

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I know it may feel morbid, but as friends and family are passing on, the thoughts are there. I ask how does my father feel as, those close to his age are leaving on their angels wings to a new sunny destination?

I can only imagine,and hope he knows how  many fond memories we have and how much growth he did provide to us, he ensured each of us had seeds of hope, seeds of knowledge and seeds of love.

So tonight, think about those seeds that those around you give to you on a regular basis that maybe you just have forgotten about or the ones you are helping plant. Make sure those seeds are valuable lessons, planted and grown with love.

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I hope that when my bloom is coming to an end, I have imparted some seeds into another for the future. I believe Atticus has the right idea, but at my departing I may be a lot drunk, but I’m sure some of you, I will see again, just a déjà vu.

Love always the getting older, getting wiser (I think) Woman in Process.

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