Day 1: The Road to India (Riverside, CA, USA)

November 13, 2009

1:41 am - Today began by being awakened by my mum going to the restroom. She came back to bed to fall asleep almost immediately. I was glad because, as she reported yesterday, she was 'exhausted'. I laid there in the bed I have shared with my beloved mother on and off for two months, a pattern broken only by a week or two of housesitting for my sister and brother-in-law, caring for their large house and their small dog, Noka, allow them to travel worry-free. I digress.

I laid there listening to Ash purr on my right (a cat I've come to affectionately love from merely tolerating a few short months ago) and mom on my left doing her own kind of purring as each exhale is pushed through closed lips making a kind of puffing sound. A sound that my sister just admitted that she recently woke up doing that same puffing-snore. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, I am my mother after all." Not such a bad plight I think.

I laid there a bit more and reached for mom's hand and held it while I said a silent prayer that she would be able to find herself-her true self as she examines her life. This after confessing that she has somehow gotten lost in the lives of others. Who is she beyond the mother of Tracy and Yvonne, or Gigi to Ava, Haylee, Paige and the new baby on its way? I believe this is an exciting time for her as well.

I let go of her hand and sat up disturbing Ash only slightly as he resettled on my now vacant pillow. I pulled the bedroom door closed enough to prevent the light in the kitchen from seeping into the bedroom as I put the kettle on for tea. I switched on the lamp aside the sofa to begin this journal entry. I poured some water into a small glass and dropped an Airborne tablet into it thinking that it would would keep my immune strong as I get weak from rising so very early.

When I first got up and begin switching on the lights I crabbed my Kindle (a gift from my new yet life-long friend, Sue) thinking I would read, but the call of the crisp pages of this new journal (another gift from my beloved friend, Ester) was calling to me much louder. I wasn't going to take this journal with me due to the added weight it would give to my already heavy bags. But the thought of re-gifting it (probably to mom as much of what I choosing to leave behind is going to her) just didn't seem--not 'right' so much as the desire to have a wonderful connector to such an adored friend as she. I also picked up mom's guestbook that was laid open last Sunday at the potluck, farewell birthday party for me. I want to pull out the pages that hold the precious sentiments of my loved ones and take them with me, but that too doesn't make sense after purging a third of what I thought would fit in my 28" Osprey backpack (man, am I relieved it has wheels!) I will soon come to learn that if truth be known I'll only need a third of what's in it now. What I find profound is that the last entry in the guestbook was penned by my own hand nine years and two days ago, which reads, "Saying it is one thing, but living it is something else entirely. I wish this new [Shirley Valentine] group will empower us all to fulfill our potential!" I find that to be more than a coincidence and feel certain that I am moving closer and closer to fulfilling my own potential. I thumbed through the eight pages that contain the most encouraging words ever bestowed on me. (I almost wrote 'ever given' then an ever so brief argument with my ego which accused me of using 'bestowed' to impress. It lost the battle as I retorted "word of this nature are not given! They can only be 'bestowed' because they are said based on the way the recipient is 'being'." This is what is so humbling about what has been written on those pages. It's proof that I made it out of the cocoon and I'm ready to fly. I replaced the copy of the invitation to the party in between the pages for safe-keeping and as I closed the book I felt a sense of responsibility to fulfill the wishes of the authors of those words.

I'm so enjoying my second to last cup of tea (2nd to last considering we won't leave for Yvonne's for our drive to the airport of another six hours and anticipate having another). This one is perfectly sweetened with just the right amount of creamer for the long brew I gave it.

--This journal has inspiring quotes written on every forth page. The two that accompany this post are;

"Adventure is worthwhile." Amelia Earhart

and

"Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." Ralph Waldo Emerson