Wednesday, July 7 and Thursday, July 8, 2010Sometimes while caught up in a task, our mind busy and involved in just what we are doing, a little distraction will carry us away. Unfortunately for me, this can happen regularly and greatly inhibits me from getting things accomplished. As frustrating as it is in dealing with some similar issues with my son, I can relate to his inability to snap himself back into the world he needs to be in.
One such distraction these last few days was the number 52 chalked on the back of our hutch. Throughout my life, the number 52 has followed me around. It pops up now and then and when it does, I look around to see if there is some sign from the other side that I should be cluing into. My very first address was 52 Varick Street and my mother pointed out the coincidence when my associate number was 52 at my very first job. I will notice it when I happen to look at my odometer as it is flipping to 52 or when a grocery total is $152.52. It sounds silly, but that number happens to me frequently.
The diamond in my engagement ring is listed on my appraisal paperwork as weighing .52 carats. Shortly after getting married, we went to an auction in hopes to find a small hutch as extra storage for our kitchen and were assigned the number, yes of course, 52. I hadn't thought about that in a long time, and noticed it, still chalked on the back of the hutch while moving furniture around this week. A little distraction in the sweat of the 90+ degree heatwave to put the day into perspective. To realize that the day and the days events are not simply on their own, but form a brushstroke in the entire painting that is my life.
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