So, I was all set to come on today and write about dreams and the future as I see it. I think about the future a lot, see. I have since June. I know I talk a lot about Eric being sick (and to see him scampering around the roof tonight, you'd think I was crazy. Oh Sparky...) but it's the stressful reality in my life right now, and the one thing I can't just talk about to the average individual. I mean, don't we ALL have that friend who complains constantly, who can turn every conversation back to her woes and ailments?

You: "So, congratulations! That big promotion AND winning the lottery? Amazing!"
Her: "I guess... but the promotion means a new office chair in that corner office, and I just know my sciatica will act up again, and that is so painful... and the big cardboard lottery check gave me the worst papercut- my doctor says I may have gangrene in my pinky now...."

Anyway- I think a lot about what I need to do, how I need to prepare for the future. I'm going back to school once Eric is out, for something that can support us eventually if need be. But I need my creative outlets as well. That's just ME. And while I have my photography and scrapbooking (all hail the suburban mom!).... a part of me longs to write again. Fiction, not just my bloggish ramblings. I've had three stories, three sets of characters living in my head for a while. One is geared towards kids Dash's age, but girls- a girls' sports story. Too many princesses, not enough second basewomen in youth fiction if you ask me. the second is more YA, and it intersects with the world of the third. The characters in the third have a permanent residence in my subconcious, and if I'm not careful I'm going to begin taking on the characteristics of a split personality.

So tonight I was going to write about that, kind of a "pump myself up" thing, get myself geared up to stop thinking and start DOING (or typing). I was in my bedroom, folding laundry and thinking about my post. We keep the kitchen radio on almost constantly during the holidays, tuned to 102.1 for it's constant stream of holiday music. As I was folding and hanging, thinking about all of this, I heard the song "Let there be peace on earth". It made me just stop. I love that song. I remember standing in Mass as a child and singing that song during Advent. But more than that, I remember my Grandma singing it.

Grandma always listened to 61 country on the old radio by her bedside every night. She'd turn on the radio, climb into bed, and listen to whatever program was on. More often than not, she'd sing along. When i was little and staying the night, I'd often sleep in the bed beside her. She'd pat my back (even when I was 7 or 8 years old) and sing along with the radio. "Church in the Valley", "Amazing Grace", and "Old Rugged cross" are permanently etched in my mind as Grandma's songs. I can't hear Amazing Grace without tearing up. I look REALLY devout at church sometimes due to this.

At Christmas time, 61 country would play... well, Christmas songs. And my grandma's favorites were O Holy Night, Away in a Manger, Silent Night, and of course... Let there be Peace on earth. She'd half hum, half sing as she patted my back, lulling me to sleep. And tonight, hearing that song, was a sock in the stomach. Grandma's song. And a rememberance... that Grandma's almost been gone for a year now.

I miss her. A lot.

I believe that moments like that are signs, or messages. So while I was thinking about my future, and what I may or may not want to do, Grandma had a litlte message for me. I'm not sure what it is, but I know she's there.

My heart is open.