What My Dad Taught Me

             

My father didn't teach me how to throw a ball.

It would have been a waste of time anyways. 

What I have learned from him 

resonates so much more, 

and the amount of love, respect and admiration for him, 

only continues to grow everyday. 

My dad taught me to be polite, 

that very rarely is there the need to yell. 

Family comes first, 

but who we consider to be our family can be molded over time.

Remain calm, take a deep breath, and resist overreacting. 

My dad taught me all I know about money, 

to respect it, to be wise with it, 

and to also let it allow you to enjoy little treats. 

My father taught me the joy in simple pleasures, 

good food from the grill, 

a great bowl of pasta, 

an evening together with loved ones. 

He passed on his love of tv, 

of the importance of sitcoms, 

and the joy in having a great show to look forward to. 

I work hard at what I do because that's what I've learned from my father,

who owns his own business and leads by example.

I try to believe that all will be ok 

if hard work and time is devoted. 

My father taught me to love animals

and when I brought home my first pet as an adult,

I understood why my father always surrounded our home 

with their unconditional love.

I look forward to seeing him with every visit, 

with the same enthusiasm that we both have 

for digging into bowls of ice cream, 

complete with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, 

for I know the importance of dessert, 

just as he taught me. 

photo circa 1990

Mental Holiday

After a week of unpredicted bumps in the road 

(hello full blown cold! hello flat tire!), 

sometimes it's just easiest to give up trying for a minute, 

let go and stop thinking, 

stop doing. 

So for at least until I'm able to recover a bit this weekend, 

you shall find me with a cup of tea on the couch, 

zoning out. 

Maybe I'll work on making a dent in my pile of magazines, 

maybe I'll watch some of my favorite tv shows 

that have been recorded on my dvr 

for way too long. 

Either way, for now, 

I'm on a mini-mental holiday.

photo via Pinterest 

Recovering

I’m hibernating.

For the past few weekends, 

I’ve veered away from most social activities, 

I’ve passed on going-out opportunities, 

in favor of staying home. 

Which is not to say, 

I haven’t been busy on these weekends.

I’ve done laundry, 

I’ve cleaned and tidied my apartment.

I’ve had wonderful meals with the boy 

and we’ve ran errands.

I’ve started into my never-ending pile of magazines, 

we’ve watched movies. 

I started a new workout routine

 and dived into organizational goals I have for myself.

But overall, I’ve been pretty anti-social. 

I’ve chosen my couch over bars and parties. 

And it has been wonderful.

My work weeks tend to be busy, 

tend to be scheduled to the brim. 

And I was started to break, 

to feel like I wasn’t on solid ground any more. 

After the holidays, 

I was worn out.

The new year is for fresh starts, 

and I wanted, 

I needed, 

to make one, 

to really take care of me. 

I don’t currently even have much desire to go out on a Friday night, 

but I know that I will again, 

when there is actually something worthwhile,

 to get dressed up for and head out on the town. 

So until then, 

my weekends are for recovery, 

recovery from my hectic work week, 

recovery from too little sleep, 

from too much stimulation and stress, 

my weekends are for physical, mental and emotional recovery.

With this recovery time, 

I’m hoping my creativity will grow, will renew, 

will inspire me for future projects and new ideas.

So on that note, 

I’m off to make a good dinner, 

and enjoy my favorite tv shows, 

as the boy is out of town tonight

and the remote and DVR is all mine.

And I don’t feel one bit guilty about it, 

because it’s going to be great.

I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come out of my hibernation.

It’s bound to be for something pretty fabulous.

photo courtesy of Glitter Guide’s Pinterest