1 comment | published by Linda | August 24, 2010
It's easy for me to get several programs working on my computer at the same time. As my fingers are flying across the keyboard, I often look up and notice that annoying little rainbow wheel twirling away at the top of my screen. Apparently, I have overloaded it with information, it has become frozen, and needs some time for processing. I wait. 

After our most recent move, we have found ourselves spending hours in the garage, sorting through the endless piles of boxes. It's the random ones that slow me down the most. As I open one, I find what seem to be pieces, parts of different seasons and memories that I will need to sort through. In one is a toy that was my oldest son's favorite from over ten years ago. I can remember how he would hold it, ask me to watch him as he held it up to the sky, and would talk at a pace I couldn't keep up with. Next to it was a dress. I remember how my daughter wore it on that day we walked through the downtown streets, heading toward the ice cream store in the city we once lived. I become frozen. I need time to process the information I am overloaded with. I welcome these passages back to places where I once was. My wheel turns.

It's no wonder why I can struggle falling to sleep at night. So many things to process, trails to journey down that only lead to another. The older I get, like my computer, I need more time to process, as new information is brought to me and is added to what I am already holding onto. 

As is routine, when I take my baby daughter to a restaurant, she attracts the eyes of older women. Recently, a sweet old woman sat in a booth behind us. As she locked her eyes on the face of my daughter, I could almost see her wheel just turning. She was taken back to a place of joy, a time in her life when she must have held one so small, and cared for her through her days. She was processing, brought back, and frozen for a moment.

We need time to process, to be still, to remember. Life comes fast, and seems to rush by even faster. As years pass, we might appear to become slower, yet inside, we will be processing the joys, the sweetness and the grief that has brought us that far. 
Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: The Twirling Wheel

August 24, 2010
Yay!!!! This is incredible!! I love it!!

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