I’ve got a few lover-lies in my family. I wonder how they have made it to the age that they are?
Everything is an emergency, an ordeal, a manipulation, an attack of the vapors, and I marvel at their inability to rationally deal with traffic, concession lines, neighbors, and family gatherings…..?
Inevitably, a week or two prior to an event, the needling starts. When they arrive, the tension can be cut with a knife.
That’s generally when I have to make fun of the sour-puss relatives that want to rain on my parade. I can’t say I’ve made it yet…but in search of cultivating gratitude….I’m grateful for the difficult people in my life…they are the sandpaper that keeps smooth my rough edges. They keep me focused on the direction that I want to travel.
In the famous words of Wynona Judd “If it’s not one thing, it’s my mother.”
Thanks Everyone. I love you for who you are. You make my life an adventure! You make me stronger, and if I grow up to be like you…..my husband has instructions on how to deal with me!