"Joy chose you...."

For the record, I find lifelong obedience a bit creepy.   Saying the word "obey" was pro forma in 1967 and I hadn't grown up enough to question it.  We can all see how that worked out!  But that was then, this is now.  

You'd think that one of the twins, at some point in her life, would have questioned mama's advice and put on an orange scarf or painted her nails purple, maybe even changed her hairstyle, in defiance.  But no, they were very clear about it: "Every day for our entire lives."

They were a bit dour; otherwise, I might have satisfied my curiosity with a longer interview.  I was curious about Mama.  Did she rule with an iron hand and threaten them in some way?  Or was it an offhand comment when they were five never meant to last 85 years? 

It's chilling to think that anyone would give up freedom of expression because of a vow made decades ago.   

Anyway, I have to delete that post and start all over.  With a poem Jan sent me by Donna Ashworth:

JOY

Joy does not arrive with a fanfare,

on a red carpet strewn with the flowers of a perfect life.

Joy sneaks in, as you pour a cup of coffee,

watching the sun hit your favourite tree, just right.

And you usher joy away,

because you are not ready for it.

Your house is not as it must be,

for such a distinguished guest.

But joy cares nothing for your messy home,

or your bank-balance,

or your waistline, you see.

Joy is supposed to slither through the cracks of your imperfect life,

that’s how joy works.

You cannot invite her, you can only be ready when she appears.

And hug her with meaning,

because in this very moment,

joy chose you.

Donna Ashworth