40 Reflections: 40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season
I’ve heard we are what we think about every day.
Personally, my mind is constantly wrapped around family and writing. Lately, I’ve been focused on my parents.
I love sharing stories about how mom and dad hold each other up emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I think of them when I close the door on selfishness and gluttony and throw the welcome mat out for perspective and gratitude; faith and blessings. I love celebrating the dusty street I came from in Albuquerque’s South Valley, having green chili nestled in between the salt and pepper at the table with dinner every night, and stacking wood on the woodpile until it looked like a perfect MC Escher painting.
I love opening a letter with a butter knife — it reminds me of when mom and dad would get the mail and use the letter opener to whoosh through the top of the envelope. I love that they taught me delayed gratification by having my sisters and I open one present at a time on Christmas Day and write down who gave us what so thank you notes would go out promptly. I like thinking about them when I pour my coffee in the morning, knowing they are at the table, unfolding the Albuquerque Journal after Mom has placed the rubber band holding it together in a small Ziploc bag because everything that can be recycled or reused is. There is no waste.
Some days I feel I’ve made some decent parenting choices, others I feel I’m misfiring endlessly…because parenting is hard. It is packed with daily moments of failure, joy, wonder, and exhaustion. But it’s what I think about every day, and I am so grateful.