I’ve always been one to strive for peace, not necessarily happiness as a lot of people seem to do. I’ve found through the years, that happiness is borne of peace. Happiness is elusive, a few fleeting fragmented moments of time, but oh, when your soul is at peace, it’s lasting and it’s perfect.
I found it this morning. It’s a warm, very breezy fall day in Heavensville. Hubby is working, and I made myself a late breakfast, eggwhite omelet, freshly ground and brewed coffee, and a bowl of fresh peaches and yogurt. I ate outside on the patio, with freshly cut herbs sprinkled on my omelet, and cherry tomatoes plucked from the vine, feeding the M&M’s bites of peaches as I ate. Afterwards I took them for their late morning potty run. I was sitting in the golf cart in the shade by the rocks, the fur kids were scampering in the grass, the wind was blowing in my face, the sun dappling thru the trees, a dove was cooing in the distance, and I was at peace. Wonderful, blissful peace.
I have defining moments in my life when I remember such feelings. The most binding ones were when the boys were born. After both births, as I held those little red faced, ten fingered, ten toed baby boys in my arms, I have never felt such peace. They were healthy, beautiful little babies, and it was the happiest moments of my life.
Not surprising, one of the other vivid memories is of home. Hubby and I had been married a few years, the boys were small at the time, and we were visiting Mother. It was a day not unlike today, a warm day with a brisk wind, and Mother had her windows open. There is nothing like freshly laundered curtains billowing at the windows, and because she lived in a valley surrounded by trees, she always had great cross-thru ventilation, so it was a wonderful breeze.
Hubby had taken Mother and the boys somewhere, but I stayed behind. I took a pillow from her bed, with the same pillowcase that I had slept on as a child, one she had made years before, and I laid down sideways on the foot of her bed, my head on that pillow, and my face to the window.
I’ll never forget that afternoon, the way the birds I remembered from my childhood were singing in the trees by my ditch, the sound of the tassel on her raised window shade as it flapped against the blind, and I went to sleep.
I’ve never slept as soundly, or as well as I did that afternoon, with the breeze blowing over my body, in the house where I grew up. It was comfort, and it was warmth, and it was memories, and it was totally perfect.
I awoke refreshed, and I can still remember the imprint of her chenille bedspread on my arm. It’s a much cherished memory, one that will stay with me always.
So when I have a peaceful moment, like I did today, I treasure it, and I remember other moments as well. I hope you do, too. It’s a wonderful thing.
~ jan
This is it, this is the pillowcase I slept on that long ago afternoon!!! I have it saved in a drawer in the guest room. A few years before Mother 
died, I was visiting her, and I told her I wanted it someday. She went right then, found it in her drawer, and gave it to me. I seldom asked her for her things, and I’m sure she wanted to be sure I got it. It used to be one of a pair, but she didn’t have other one, I was just glad that she had saved this
After I made this entry, I thought you might all like to see it, so I got it from the drawer and took this picture. Isn’t it wonderful?
I still have the pattern Mother used to make this, too. This old case dates back to the late 40’s.
It’s made from a feedsack, and she appliqued the lady with the bonnet, and added a ruffle at the bottom. It’s so worn, and a bit yellowed from where many heads have lain, as you can see, but I bet if I handwashed it, put it outside to dry, starched it a bit and ironed it, that it would be PERFECT to take a nap on again. And what do I have for my boys to remember of their childhood?
Well, somewhere, stored away I still have their Ronald McDonald pillowcases… I’m such a sentimental schmuck!
It’s those simple things, ladies…
