I am approaching a certain significant age, and part of turning this age seems to mean that my filter is retiring.
My pal Cait and I talk about this – that we must be born with a number of darns, and we are now running out.
Maybe darns are like eggs, and maybe it’s all connected. But I’m not a scientist.
What I do know is that this is very liberating.
I knew a lady once who had a stroke and subsequently, “got fun.” That lady was my grandmother, and she took care of me the year I was in Kindergarten. Mostly we played poker.
This is the same woman who, while dying, started smoking Lucky Strike cigarettes. She is the poster girl for running out of darns.
But what my grandmother never did was tell you what darns you should give – at least not after the stroke. Maybe before then, but I don’t really remember. My only memories of her are post-stroke fun Nanny, my best pal and partner in crime (but only in that we watched crime shows together.)
My grandmother lived a quiet life that complemented by grandfather’s near-celebrity status.
I realize now that she was a minimalist before I knew what that was.
I picture her now, eating toast with apricot jam while standing at the counter; while my grandpa ate a full working man’s breakfast – eggs and toast, cereal, fruit, a pot of tea.
Where my grandpa was big, she was small. Where my grandpa was loud, she was quiet.
But they both showed me that those who are content in their choices and beliefs, don’t have to push them on the world. They don’t need to shout from rooftops. And they don’t have to judge others on different paths.
I’m talking about that a bit today at The Homeschool Sisters – about how by choosing homeschooling, other people might think we are judging their choice not to. But it doesn’t have to be that way, and usually it isn’t.
I’d love it if you head over there and check it out.