So Much Needs to Be Done

Here I am again, curled up on the sofa, with a journal and a bright green pencil, scratching out words that fall out from the inner world of my soul. I should be getting things done. Always, always, things need getting done. No matter how much I do, I have discovered that things still need to be done. Is this all life is? The doing of things that need to be done?

What am I striving for anyhow? To be the perfect, all-American woman? To impress someone with my clean house, or manicured yard? To revel in my children's accomplishments? Do I want to be noticed? Acknowledged? Counted worthy to receive a generous piece of the pie?

Not long ago, not very long ago at all, I held my babies close. Life was full of then- beautiful, blessed moments of sheer joy, cradled within my own two arms.

My physical eyes beheld perfection though I could not see them growing.  Soft and tiny, freshly scented with heavens perfume; my lips gently kissed their delicate skin~ love drenched affection. Their warm sweet breath tickled my neck as I rocked them to sleep upon my shoulder.

All but for a moment in time . . .

My babies are all gone now. I did not see them growing, yet they grew. I did not see their wings developing, yet they flew away.

Today, there are so many things on my to-do-list; so many things I need to get done. There is so much life still to be lived . . .

My black lab stretches lazily across the living room floor, agitating me with her incessant snoring..

Crackling sounds of pages turned comes from my daughter as she quietly reads. My husband catches up on sleep missed during the wee hours of the morning. Today is his birthday number 53.

I sit, with pencil in hand, writing out my perspective of this passing hour. Meanwhile, there is so much that needs to be done . . .