Raquel Martina Martinez

Just yesterday, I was twenty years old. In college. Getting my teaching certificate. The world ahead was wide open. My dreams were finally blossoming. Just yesterday, I was in my forties. Married. Three children. A career that I loved. Things weren’t perfect and my dreams had taken a 180, but I wasn’t complaining. Just yesterday, I was in my sixties. Divorced. Remarried to someone who understood me better than anyone. Kids grown, married, with families of their own. One wonderful career accomplished; a second one just beginning. Just yesterday, I couldn’t hurry fast enough to get everything done that I wanted. Now I am here, at this stage of life. I look back to yesterday and it is full of memories, people, family, good times and bad. Just yesterday, I started with a list and now I hold this scrapbook in my hands. It is full, pieces stick out of the pages, stuffed full of memories. Every picture, every entry, every tiny scrap, good or bad, reminds me of trials, hugs, laughter

At the end of my day, I retreat into my living room and turn on my TV to relax. I pay for over 400 channels and feel I should get my money’s worth, but I have a hard time finding something I like to watch that keeps me entertained. I watch local news and avoid the national news. I do it because I need to bring down my blood pressure and not elevate it. Adulting has bombarded me all day long with its heaviness and I need to relax and feed my brain with positive thoughts. I watch game shows, rerun comedies, and old movie favorites. I find I go through cycles. I’ll watch the same game shows for months and then when I tire of that I switch to reruns. If I am in the mood for a movie, I’ll do a search and choose one that might sound interesting. If none sounds good, I go to my DVR’d list and watch one that I’ve seen multiple times. I’ll let you into some of my TV watching secrets. I’ll tape Jeopardy and then go back and watch the episode, answering the questions before the participan

One writer friend wrote a memoir about her grandmother’s youth, a lovely photograph of how Grandma met Grandad. Another friend wrote a bio about her father and the hardships he encountered in his youth. Both wanted to capture these moments for future generations so that these dear people and their lives would not be forgotten. Another friend wrote a Christian devotional about the seasons in one’s life. Written like a workbook, the reader studies and assesses each facet of their lives. An eye opener, the book assures the reader that it has nothing to do with age; it might be possible to be at the start of one project or relationship in life (the spring) while at the same time be at the end of another cycle (the winter).   I have never been one to notice age. As a child, I held my own among the adults around me. When I graduated from college and started out into the world, I stood shoulder to shoulder with my fellow adults, regardless of age or experience. I often forget that I mig