Invariably, the universe throws more at you than you expect during the week. It's just the way my weeks have gone lately. Granted, the learning curve associated with the new job, the general busy-ness of summer life on a farm, and the mundane day-to-day chores are enough to stave off boredom, but this week's additions took things a little beyond the normal range of activity.
I'm REALLY trying to hit the gym on a more regular basis, and this week I did fairly well. Besides my regular Mon/Thurs kickboxing class, I've been eyeing another class by the same instructor on Wednesday nights. It's called Body Sculpt, and I finally made one of the sessions this week. And holy crap, did I feel it Thursday. And Friday. And Saturday. And part of the day Sunday. We used muscles of whose existence I was unaware. This coming week I'll be in Dallas, TX, during the class, and after that is Fourth of July, but hopefully I'll get back on track with it after that.
Yes, there is more traveling in my future. I leave Wednesday night for Dallas, returning Friday morning. It will be a quick trip, but Thursday promises to be a full day, packed with meetings and chances to meet a lot of the main office coworkers with whom I've only ever emailed before. If I get a chance to do anything fun as far as site seeing goes, I'll post some pictures.
The family took a bit of a hit this week with the passing of my great-aunt Mable. She's been health-questionable for the last several years, due to heart problems and her advanced age of 90, but a series of small heart attacks last week proved more than her fragile system could handle.
Her death marks a milestone of sorts for our family and also for the community. PF's not a big town, so each passing creates a ripple effect for the rest of the residents. Mable was the last of the 5 original siblings of my grandfather's family, many of whom played key roles in the church and community in the area. Mable, Willis (who died in February), and my grandfather John(who died last July) were the last of their generation in our family, and to have them all die within a year of each other has made the adjustment difficult.
Her funeral also marked the last one performed by our pastor of the last 22 years, Oz. He's been a fixture at community and church events, and since his kids were close in age to my cousins and I, a family friend as well. He's retiring and moving to a lake home in Minnesota, and yesterday was his last Sunday. I've never seen so many people crying - not even at a funeral.
You may wonder why I'm putting this on a blog posting - most of you as readers don't know either Mable or Oz, or if you do, it's just as an acquaintance. But the bigger issue that hit me as I was sitting in church this afternoon is the matter of influence: how each of us does what we do, whether knowing or not knowing the effect it may have on others.
If you were suddenly gone, whether you died or had to leave, would others cry at your departure?