I am really trying not to view the resurgence of that pain and the panic attack as a step backwards. I know, initially I did, but I can’t afford to. I’m trying also not to think that I also have a visit to the neurologist in my near future.
I have begun a new beginning, of sorts, and it’s still quite fragile. I need to think and to do carefully or it will all be blown apart.
I haven’t the patience for this sort of thing. I never have. I recognize, now, that such impatience is one of those things that’s held me back. I can’t allow it to do so this time.
I will make a New Year’s Resolution this year, but it won’t have anything to do with trying to lose weight. That just sets me up for failure and an additional ten pounds. I don’t need to do that.
My mother’s gift to me this year was the Book of Common Prayer that had been given to her by her aunt when she was about ten. I always wanted to play with the book when I was small. It was red, had beautiful silk tassels as bookmarks, and gilded pages. It’s much more worn, now.
I just am not sure what to do with it. I feel woefully uneducated as far as the Episcopalian calender is. The celebrations, etc. I feel as though I was not privy to a secret that everyone else knows.
For the first time in my life, I miss the structure of The Church.
My husband has promised to take me once to the Episcopal Cathedral here in Spokane, so I am secure about the trip there. We didn’t go during Christmas because the weather was so wet, and I knew it would be very crowded for the holiday services.
I want this New Year to be a good one.
