a work of love

My mom retired yesterday after working 37 years for the county hospital of LA. Under the worst of conditions she helped her patients and gave them everything she could. I remember her going to many funerals for children and the ones that survived to early adulthood. Her job was hard.

I've been working the same job for the last 5 years and can not imagine staying in this for that long. How is our generation so different from their generation? They remember family stories with detail, can recall all sorts of things, can come home after a bad work day and not complain at all, wake up every morning before the sun rises. I'm absorbing here, I want to live a different way, a way that's more simple and attentive to what's important.

I don't know how they did that, but for me that means recommitting to regular meditation and acupuncture and spending more time in the garden, finding this many barrel cacti to fill a good chunk of space. I'm moving from a love of vintage and old things to craving an understanding of an old way of life. And since I don't have an Italian Italian in my life, I'll have to find a way to recreate an outside villa dinner. ( Just finished Gabrielle Hamilton's memoir and my mind is still in Italy).