By Mary Cristy

I love tea or coffee in the morning as soon as I awake. I pad into my bright little kitchen over hardwood floors, reach for a cup and prepare my brew at a tap that delivers water piping hot. I am far from ready to bathe, dress and venture forth to meet and greet the world.

I thrive on and love family, friends and neighbors. But I need an hour of private prayer, or reading before I begin the day. Radios, telephones and television are excruciatingly painful to me in the morning.

After my hot beverage, I open blinds, unlock my balcony door and breathe the clean air of a new day.

Some concerned friends view my style as unnatural and anti-social. They berate me because I am “behind the times, living in the past.” I agree heartily! A past filled with order, life, love and laughter is a treasure for which I thank the Lord whole-heartedly.

It’s a place to which I retreat often to relive the embrace of my late husband and remember the music of a friend, two beloved sisters and a daughter-in-law who are gone. It energizes me and gives me courage to go on.

Some say I am selfish - not thinking of my children. I remind them of when I lay wide-eyed in bed praying my children would be safe driving home on the freeway from a late-night party.

Or the shock of their sudden changes of careers or venues when they declared their intent of leaving, knowing I would not only respect but applaud a right to live their lives backward, forward, or sliding down a pole.

They worry about me. I am growing older. So are they. We share a common humanity. In their radiant youth or sober middle age they are as vulnerable as I, though it’s likely that I will be the first to go.

Sometimes on stormy nights, alone on my King-size living room couch that doubles as my bed tears come for all those who have gone. Then I concede my advisers have a strong point.

I recall the words of Chinese philosopher Lao Tse who wrote: “Of friends and acquaintances more than two-thirds have suffered change and passed into the land of ghosts. When shall we meet again and drink a cup of wine - and, laughing, gaze into each other’s eyes?”

And I tell myself, “You cannot have it all.” But I’ve had my share and when I feel strong I revel in creating an agenda that belongs to me. Lonely? Yes! Happy? Often! Stubborn? Decidedly! But I love my sons and I love my friends and though there are large holes in the fabric of my life my glass is ever and always half-full. For this I say, “Thanks be to God.”

Cristy, a Los Altos Hills resident, is a longtime contributor to the Town Crier. Her column runs the first week of each month.