The Veil Is Thin

This last week has been a bit of a slumper for me. I slip into a low mood now and then, and it's always frustrating. I attribute it to genetics and hormones, and I try to deal the best that I can. It's not quite depression, but during this period, I don't care about much and have little energy. I know that it will eventually pass and that I'll have tons of productive energy, so I try to endure and have patience. Today I was feeling kind of low and not really looking forward to another low day. I took a nap, drug myself to voice lessons, and then I started to perk up.

I wanted to get to the store to buy flour so that I could whip up a better batch of cupcakes.

I wanted to make homemade chocolate chip cookies for my girls' lunches.

I wanted to make egg salad for lunch. Ooo, and add some diced up dill pickles.

While contemplating (and being profusely thankful for my change in mood and energy), I realized that all of the things that I was wanting to do were things my mom did. She was an extraordinary baker and her cookies were divine. She also loved pickles in her egg salad.

I suddenly wondered if my mom knew I was having a hard time? Could the veil between this life and the next be that thin? Could she be helping me out? She knew depression, and although she wasn't able to do much nurturing during her turn here, I couldn't help thinking that I was being nurtured in a time of need.

This might sound nutty, but I know that there are tender mercies bestowed by the Lord in our lives every day. Why not this? Whatever it was, I am full of gratitude for the energy I felt today...for remembering my mom...and for the similar talents I inherited that enabled me to create some pretty yummy creations this afternoon.

Me and my mom at Disneyland, 1969