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Fragrance Of Life

Have you ever thought about the person you used to be? Does that question bring back a nostalgic feeling? Does it bring back a feeling of pain, remorse, or dread?
This is the question that I was given for my creative writing assignment, for a writing class I am taking. I have pondered this question for a week now, I have looked at this question from up above, both sides, and then from underneath. I have surely thought about this question too much, it is in my character to meditate on "things." Meditate sounds better than obsessing, it sounds as if I am doing something important.
I have known people that have spent too much time reflecting on past sins, a sin that they committed, or maybe a sin that someone else did that affected them. They allow this thought pattern to take control of their attitude and actions, it even changes them in their personality.
I have known people that spend most of their day dreaming and thinking about their childhood, or early married years, or college years, or the early years of when their children were young. Their thoughts are always on their past, a yearning for a past that is gone.
I have always wanted to focus on the present, with a forethought of the future. Since my mother died a little over a year ago, I think more of the past, my memories of her. I am blessed with a "extra large file cabinet" of memories of my mother, and they are all good. I love to think about
her laughter, watching her sew, or bake a pie, or the way she would pat my hand, she had a talent for giving advice with very few words-maybe only 2 or 3. Of course when I think on these memories I cry, because I am still grieving for her. My first answer in the person I used to be, is I was the daughter of a great mother.
My life now is in fully taking care of my elderly frail father. My father cannot live alone. I live in his home, I pay the bills and manage the home, I do all of the driving, and make decisions on his health care. I often fuss at him, which I truly do not like, sometimes I feel like his mother, which is perplexing and surreal to say the least. My husband works in another city and is only here on the weekends, which is hard, but we both are committed to this task of love. My second answer in the person I used to be, is my life is no longer my own, meaning I cannot go and do what I want, I do not have the pleasure of being independent.
The person I used to be, is not yet the person I will become, because God is not finished sculpting me, into the person He desires for me to be.

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