Attitude

This morning, in my journal, I jotted down memories of my father.  Silly things like, when I was a girl he didn't eat rice (wait, that never changed…), and he preferred jalapenos on his pizza.  I described what he called pork and bean sandwiches. 

There is a note about the hundreds of pounds of pecans he picked out every year, the tomatoes and peppers he grew when I was a girl, and all the times I got into the stinging nettle in the garden even though he showed me over and over what the offending plant looked like. 

I am tired beyond belief, numb with grief, but somehow consciously choosing to preserve the good thoughts helps so much.  

How about you?  

What memories can you journal about today that can help turn an ordeal into an adventure?