It is laundry day.
​Towels, sheets, whites, and darks have been washed, rinsed, spun, and tumbled for the last few hours. It sounds like a lot, but this is minor compared to the laundry I did when I had three young kids in the house.

There were constant mountains of dirty laundry divided by color on the floor in front of the washer and dryer. I was always doing laundry.  

Now, this is just my laundry. My husband does his own. I typically take care of the sheets, and whoever sees the necessity to wash towels does that load as needed.

When my mom was alive, she was appalled that I didn’t do my husband’s laundry. It was, in her mind, the wife’s job. We don’t see it that way. We both like different detergents, and he is picky about the temperature and speed at which his shirts are dried. Laundry is not my favorite chore, and he likes doing his own. We have been married for over 15 years and have always been responsible for our own dirty laundry. This works for us. 

When you think about it, who wants to be responsible for other people’s dirty laundry? Oh, I did love folding tiny sleepers and cute baby clothes when my kids were infants, but that is where it stopped.

How many times in life do we carry the load of other people’s dirty laundry? We clean up their messes, fix their problems, and bail them out of unpleasant situations.
​Let them be responsible for their own dirty laundry. They could divide their own problems into small piles and figure out the best solutions for each one. In the process, they will learn what works best for them.

They will learn that if they don’t take care of their own situations, they will drag around dirty laundry for the whole world to see. Dragging that bag of unfinished business is humiliating and makes others uncomfortable. No one wants to see your messes, mistakes, and problems. When a person learns that it is their responsibility and that no one else will fix it for them, they become problem solvers, self-confident, self-reliant, and accountable. No one else is responsible for their dirty laundry.

​You might have an agreement in your home where one of you does the laundry and the other person does the yard work. That is called a partnership and planned equilibrium of chores. It is fair, structured, and works. Learning this balance of responsibility is part of growing, learning, and living life. It is when one person is the only clean-up person while the other person is creating the messes that dealing with all the dirty laundry becomes a problem.

Teach your kids while they are young how to separate clothes by color, the difference between hot and cold water washing, and the correct temperature to dry shirts. Teach them that their dirty laundry is their responsibility and no one else’s. And most importantly, teach them that this lesson is not just about laundry.

Now, it is time to fold my towels.

                               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
                                                 Pennie’s Life Lesson:
                         No one else is responsible for your dirty laundry,
​                                     and you are not responsible for theirs.
                                 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When everyone else’s memory has faded, mine remains in vivid color. This week of his birthday, he would have been 41.​ An age I will never see him at, but I remember him clearly at 22 and every age before that.

It has been 18 years, 4 months, and 2 days since he left. It has been 18 years, 4 months, and 2 days that I have carried this grief.

I carry other grief. ​The grief of my grandparents, parents, and friends. But those have softened and faded with time. His grief is different. Heavier. Stronger. Intense.
This grief has woven itself in, out, and around every vein, artery, muscle, and bone in my body. Its invasion manipulated the structure of me physically and mentally until it ever so slightly bumped into the design of my DNA, permanently changing the person I was into the person I am now. 

I became fragile and fractured and yearned for the weakened part of me to be seen. Instead, I hid it under the mask and facade of strength. After this much time, people expect me to be over it, past it, and to let it go. When​ others grew tired of talking about him, I learned to be safe in my silence. To the outside world, my grief slowly became increasingly invisible as I buried it deeper and deeper into my heart.

This grief has an emotional durability that holds the capacity to control my tears and laughter at the sound of a song, the sight of a skateboard, or the memory of his laugh. Grief can show itself in uncharacteristic ways. On rare days, it has reached out as anger, sarcasm, moodiness, or extreme quiet.

In the quiet times of reflection, I feel the cool air of his presence and the comfort of knowing that he never left and that he has just changed.

My muscle memory pulls me back to feeling my arms cradling him in the middle of the night when he was a baby, and my fingers tickling his beard as a young man.

For all these years, I have walked on the top of a picket fence, balancing this grief with the rest of my life, understanding that by leaning too far one way will tumble me into the dark, dirty hole of despair, and leaning too far the other way throws me into forgetting him. The pain of my feet as they touch each pointed picket of the fence keeps me keenly aware of both sides while living my life in the middle, holding firmly to a space of love and gratitude.

Gratitude became my balancing rod, my life preserver, and my center of gravity. I realized I didn’t have to be grateful for everything that grief delivered to me - the pain, the nightmares, and the fear, will never receive a thank you. Grief moved through the cells of my body, clearing out what doesn’t matter and changing me into a person who appreciates what does.

I learned to be grateful for the gift of him in my life and for being his mom, even if it was for a short time. Gratitude leads me to small sparks of memories and the enjoyment of love in simple moments. Whenever my balance wavers, I hold tightly to ​my foundation of gratitude.

Science tells us that microchimerism is when a placenta implants in the uterus, and cells from the fetus may enter the mother’s body and vice versa. These cells are often found in the mother’s heart and lungs. This explains why I have always said my son and I were, and are, joined at the heart.

It is comforting to know that when his soul relocated to heaven, some of my DNA went with him, and some of his DNA stayed with me.

With every beat of my heart and with every breath I take, he is with me. Until the breath is my last, I will also quietly carry and honor the grief I have for him. And… if you ever want to talk about him with me… he is right here in the space he has held for 41 years - joined at my heart.
                             ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
                                                  Pennie’s Life Lesson:
                          Grief and love never totally leave your body.
                                  They stay forever joined at the heart. 
                            ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My dogs are very structured, schedule-driven, and predictable. They expect breakfast at 7 AM, followed by treats for doing their morning tricks, and a biscuit just because they are cute.

They want a snack at noon and dinner at 5 PM. And never forget that at 7:30 we must go downstairs to watch a little television.
​
Morning nap time is at 10 AM, and they sit in front of us and stare at exactly 8:30 PM, and want to go to bed. If we don’t notice, the slow whining begins.

This is like clockwork. Every. Day.

I know humans who are equally structured. They are on such a time routine that there is no leeway to do anything except stay on schedule. They never look up, and they don’t take a breath. When a predictable routine becomes a rut, you miss out on the joy of life.

If you don’t keep your mind open to change, your eyes open to possibilities, and your ears open to hearing new ideas, you will be stuck in the confines of your predictable routine.

Life can surprise us.

Have you ever bumped into someone in a serendipitous way, and they became an important part of your life’s relationships?

Have you ever been gifted a book- one that you would have never purchased for yourself- but when you read it, the learning became a tipping point in your life?

Have you ever overheard a conversation that felt like it was meant entirely for you, for your life, for your heart? When you took heed of the message, it changed everything.

We never know when a random meeting, an unintentional event, or a whispered message can change the path of our lives. If your life is so scheduled that you can’t deviate from the routine, you miss out. You miss out on the unknown possibilities that are the magic of life.

Uncertainty can be a frightening thing. We can fear the unknown. ​The shock of the unexpected can catch us off guard and throw off our balance. But that is where the magic lives. In the cracks between the predictable. In the light that breaks the darkness. And in the unknown, uncertainty of the unexpected.

When we pay attention, we see it. When we are aware that maybe, just maybe, that message was meant for you. Maybe that person was supposed to be standing in front of you at the grocery store. Maybe it was no accident that you read the book that started you on an unexpected path of change. Maybe the things you brush off as coincidences are part of a highly synchronized plan that is your true scheduled life routine. You just didn’t know it- until now.

We need schedules and structure, but leave room for the magic. Look up from your work. Breathe the fresh air. Say yes when you are invited to events. Be open to meeting new people and enjoy the excitement of change.

You never know how life will surprise you. Be ready for the magic.
                               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
                                                      Pennie’s Life Lesson: 
   Be open to the unknown, the unexpected, the uncertainty, and the magic of life. 
                                ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

​YOUR TURN...        
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below.  And please feel free to email me  at:
 [email protected]. 
                                                                 Thank you!  ​
                                      ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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                             This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt.
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Well, it has happened. We are into a new year. A new number. A new placeholder in life. You have probably spent a substantial amount of time in the last week or two reviewing, rehashing, and reliving what happened last year. What did you accomplish? What do you regret? What did you relish?

It is kind of funny when you think about it. Did anything really change overnight between the closing of one year and the opening of another? Things are not that much different. It is not like the magic glittery ball dropped and suddenly everything changed. It didn’t.

Most people look at the new year as a new beginning. A fresh start. We start at one and begin counting off hashmarks on the calendar again.

If last year was a difficult one for you, it may be hard to pull up the energy to begin again. You may be afraid that next year will be worse. Here is a thought for you… Every minute of our lives is an opportunity to begin again.

We look at every year as a new beginning, but every month can be a new beginning. Do you dread Mondays? Start looking at Monday as an opportunity for a new beginning. Every day is an opportunity for a new beginning.

In fact, every morning that we open our eyes and take that first conscious breath of air is a new beginning. And every breath we take after that throughout our day is a new beginning.

The only thing special about that glitter ball dropping is that the number on the calendar changes. But we are given the opportunity of “newness” with every breath we take. We have the opportunity to change our lives and ourselves at any given time. We don’t have to wait for a New Year's Resolution to create change. You can do it in any year, any month, or any day of the week. You decide when the moment is right.

It might be exciting to look at the blank slate of the future year and plan it out. Or your fear may keep you from trying anything new or making any positive changes. But here is my challenge to you… Be brave enough to begin again.

What have you tried that didn’t work out the way you wanted? What are you afraid to attempt? What changes do you want for yourself and your life? It doesn’t matter if you have tried and failed. Be brave enough to begin again.

Be brave enough to create change. Don’t wait for a shiny new year with a bigger number on the calendar. Begin any time you choose. Begin any month, any day, any morning, or with any breath.

Step outside. Take a deep breath in. Lock an intention into your heart. Fill your mind with the visual of what you want to change and believe that you have the power within you to accomplish it. Be brave enough to begin again!

Pennie’s Life Lesson:
Don’t wait for the perfect timing.
Be brave enough to begin again!