Memorial Day is and should be a revered day, honoring those men and women who have died in service to our country. With that said, I believe most days are sacred and worthy of honor, and should be fully lived. A mantra I’ve preached to my family is, “if there is such a thing as sin, it is a sin to waste a day.” Even the worst of days can offer glimpses of goodness. Yesterday I violated my own vow. I wasted a day I had looked forward to with great anticipation for months.
The corporate headquarters of our new family franchise is hosting a conference this weekend at a city on the west coast of Florida. While I knew my husband would be required to attend meetings, I imagined languishing by the ocean, reading a new novel, frolicking with fabric, and blogging. It turned out, however, the only body of water our hotel abutted was a man made pint sized pond. I had previously pleaded with my husband to ascertain the particulars about our hotel. As silly as it sounds, my nest, as I sidle up to 61, is very important to me. My environs impact my psyche.
So…not being one to suffer in silence, my poor husband caught the brunt of my disappointment. All that my grousing and grumbling managed to do was waste so many precious minutes and hours until the day slipped into sleep. While my spirits are much improved today, I continue to memorialize a day I will never get back again.