Nine Days, Rain

   The days seem to hang in the air, when its raining for nine days.
   Rationally, I know, I could be knee deep in snow, instead of knee deep in the holidays with wet feet!
   When it rains it pours, is my December.
    Decorations up, cards mailed, 90 percent of shopping done, and yet??

    Singing Christmas carols loud and proud, hasn't done the trick.
    AND you know I can not leave it alone, and toss in this gloom, I want answers and solutions.
    I know I need sunshine, but sometimes it just is not in the cards.

    So I eat much fruit, exercise and count my blessings, with a grumpy cat face!

    I think Mr. Mandela passing, helped me and maybe not.
    The kids came over and said, "I knew you would be watching this mom!" and I did. For many hours, and it was a happy grief. Happy for him, and happy that I had lived on earth with him. I read and re-read many books by him, and thought about his courage. He probably never complained about the rain, I just know it.
I woke Bill up at night with questions, " How did he come out of prison not hating?" I could not wrap my head around such a person. Bill of course turned away from me, hmm...and said, " He was Nelson Mandela, Bonnie, go to sleep." Then ever so quietly, " Bill are you still asleep? wonder how much it would cost to fly over there?" and " Where will all of the people go to the bathroom?" Bill sighs, " You are not going, you hate crowds, and there will not be enough bathrooms!" I sigh, " I know, but your job is to comfort me, and realize that this is history in the making, and my heart hurts." He covered up my shoulders, knowing that would make me happy, and said, " The funeral comes on at 4am, see you there." Counting my blessings, so happy we have always been early risers, and I will have Bill to attend the funeral with me.
    We listened and barely heard what was going on, but I wanted Mr. Mandela to know I cared, that he was important in my life.
     I can not understand what he went through, and how on the other side of pain and isolation, found a peace. I hope he saw many happy days, in his long life, and knows how much he meant to the world.
    He said it best, that he was not a saint but a sinner, trying to do right.
  
    I hope to learn from him, how to not let a little rain dampen my spirit.

    From many miles away, I say good-bye Madiba