Perception, Time and

Everything takes time. I hadn’t quite perceived that until recently.

I never truly comprehended that each and every upheaval in life has consequences, both good and bad.

Last year when I relocated to my new home, it was the first time I had ever done that alone.

When I left NYC on a cloudy October morning, so very long ago, my love and I drove away together.

Later during the 50 odd years we shared, quite often his lengthy career madated frequent travel away from home and hearth. However, during those years, two or more of the Fabulous Four remained home with me.

Of course, after all four left to seek their fortunes and his career came to an end, we were together. I was not yet alone.

Consequently, this recent change in my life has been a distinctly new adventure.

One where I have literally groped my way daily to slowly attempt to adjust, to assimilate, to be accepted.

It became more of an effort than I had anticipated. I had always prided myself on. being flexible. Soon I realized that wasn’t quite an accurate description. In reality I was quite rigid about certain aspects of my life.

I never enjoyed playing games even as a child. I never wanted to participate. I always knew it was useless to pretend an interest that was totally lacking. So I didn’t even try.

I have absolutely no interest in book clubs. My reading is compulsive, and verges on passionate. Something I am not willing to share,. Difficult, I admit, to understand, but yet a valid appraisal of my feelings.

However, I absolutely love to bake. Perhaps that is an archaic choice considering the cuisine I now enjoy is so extraordinary, The simple task of combining various and sundry ingredients, and then smelling an amazing aroma as they unite into a culinary achievement gives me untold pleasure. For some obscure reason after relocating, I felt it frivolous to continue with this tangent of my life. For the first twelve months after moving, I relinquished it totally.

Then suddenly, another Christmas was on the horizon, While my days were not empty, still I was acutely aware something was lacking. The usual joyful anticipation seemed remote. I wasn’t certain exactly what was amiss.

Then while shopping one cold December afternoon, I noticed a roll of plaid ribbon on a counter in the local Mall, Immediately, I remembered the white boxes I purchased annually in The Chocolate Duck on Main Street in Farmingdale. I remembered how soon they were all filled with Maida Heatter’s Recipe for butter cookies, tied with the bright red and green streamers and ready to be shipped or presented to friends and family.

That is when I thought, “Why have I stopped doing something that’s fun?” Imediately, I began to research the Internet for similar white boxes and plaid ribbon. Of course, that quickly proved to be a simple matter.

Duplicates of what I had always used to hold my annual Christmas gift were easily ordered and delivered to my new address.within the week. Soon my kitchen was filled with the warmth of butter and sugar combining with almond, and my world seemed brighter. I was happily at peace preparing for Christmas and renewing the joys of an old tradition,

The most interesting part of my discovery was a newly discovered perception. Life does not have to totally change when your zip code does.

It is not necessary to change who you are when life demands you take another step forward on its journey. Simply pack all the things you enjoy, favorite authors, mundane pleasures, and obscure joys, and soon the road will not seem quite so bumpy.

It took me far too long to realize such a simple truth.