Well, I think it’s finally happened. I got through the winter without developing the bronchitis I normally get. But yesterday I felt the beginnings of a chest cold coming on. I went to the gym and ran, then sat in the sauna hoping to sweat it out. After all, that seemed to be enough the last few times I felt a sore throat. Unfortunately today I don’t feel better. It’s there. I’ve dosed up on vitamins and drank extra water and tea all day. I hope it’s enough. Regardless, I’m thankful I made it this long being healthy.
April 22
When I moved into my house, I got an old school chalkboard to hang in my kitchen. I envisioned it as a way for my kids and me to make grocery lists or leave each other messages, like where we are if we’re gone. Instead it quickly turned into a place for silliness.
I love how my kids don’t miss a sarcastic beat. Like when a math friend used it for a math lesson.
Today I found this…it makes me laugh. My kids are clever and creative. I’m so thankful for the fun we have every day in these small ways.
April 21
It’s been an interesting day. Normal but not quite. It’s amazing how one random happenstance can color the world differently. I’m thankful today for taking chances. Comfort can be a siren song…sometimes you need find something else to focus on. Like the light of the stars.
April 20
Happy Easter. If you’re a Christian, today is one of the major celebrations in the faith. The belief that Christ rose from the dead is the foundation of the entire faith. Without this as a central belief, nothing else really matters. If Christ wasn’t resurrected, then He was simply a pretty good guy. I happen to follow this faith; it gives me a sense of peace that I don’t find in other things. I think as humans, we all search for a connection or deeper meaning in our lives that is beyond work or achievements or money or power.
However, even if you aren’t a Christian, I think this holiday can still have importance outside of the Easter bunny and baskets and candy (all of which I also enjoy!). The idea of resurrection is the coming back to life after death. Instead of a literal death, how many of us have experienced death in other ways? Emotional deaths? Relationship deaths? I think it’s significant that Easter coincides with Spring and the renewal of life outside. I like to think of Easter in terms of my own self being renewed somehow. Instead of doing this kind of internal overhaul at New Years, I do some reflecting at Easter time. What kind of things can I let go of (bury) and resurrect into something more meaningful or positive? For me right now, it’s relationships. It would appear that breaking Valentine’s gifts, even accidentally, is a bad sign when you’re dating. And while I’m sad to have ended things with a guy I really like, in the long run, I believe it’s better for both of us. Our paths weren’t headed in the same direction so our expectations weren’t in synch. I think in adult relationships, honesty is key. And mostly honesty with yourself. It’s not always easy and a lot of times it’s painful, but it’s better to be honest about what you want and need than to spend too much time yearning for what is missing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the heart wants what it wants, but what it wants is not always the best thing for us.
So today I’m thankful I went to church, which I don’t always do. The message today was about hope. Fitting for the holiday and Springtime, but also fitting for me today. I’m holding on to hope.
April 19
I love books. I always have. I was the kind of kid who would, on a Saturday, ride my bike to the library and spend hours roaming the shelves. I’d totally judge books by their covers and delight in the fact that I was often right about them. And I’d look forward to used book sales like I now look forward to shoe sales. I’d load up on 25¢ paperbacks and craft books. And I’d actually read them, not just hoard them. When I was in middle school I won a writing contest and the prize was a gift certificate to a book store. I agonized over how to spend the prize money. I ended up getting a book of poetry, bound in blue velvet, a college dictionary, and the complete works of the Bronte sisters. I still have those books.
There was a time in my adulthood when I had a library room, every wall lined with shelves and every shelf containing books. However, with all of my moving, it became necessary to downsize. I now have just a few bookshelves and only books I couldn’t part with, along with a lot of reference material like gardening and decorating books. It also happened that as I got older and busier, I didn’t read as much. I’m just now getting back to reading more regularly. It’s a happy reunion. Going into the warmer months, I look forward to sitting out on my deck in the chair designated for the purpose, book on my lap. I’m thankful today that I was able to pull the chair out of the shed and get it set up and ready. Unfortunately, by the time I was able to sit down with my book today, it was too dark outside to read there. But I’m hoping to get out there tomorrow.
April 18
Good Friday. And it was a good day. The weather was beautiful. I started the day by running on the bike path with my girls at 8:00 this morning and ended it by spending time with some girlfriends who came by for dinner. Because they hadn’t seen me since my dad passed away, they wanted to stop by but not have me play hostess. Therefore, they brought pizza and snacks and wine. We sat around my kitchen island and had a wonderful evening of talking and laughing. They even brought me flowers to plant in my garden and stepping stones in memory of my dad. Such a beautiful, thoughtful gesture. I’m truly blessed to have several groups of friends, all special in the different ways they enhance my life.
April 17
I have a confession to make. I’m one of those people who is drawn in by the saddest stories. That includes animals who have been abandoned, people who have been heartbroken, children who are lost. I cannot go in to pet stores because I cannot handle the sad look of an animal through glass and bars. I can’t even imagine going into an orphanage. I would want to take every child home. And I cannot walk away from a person who is hurting. I have a debilitating need to save the world, one hopeless case at a time. It gets me into trouble. Like the time I lived out in the country and my (then) husband decided to light fire to every pile of brush he could see in an effort to clean up our land. As one particular pile burned, my daughter said she thought she could hear meowing. Sure enough, hidden under the pile of burning sticks were newborn kittens. We made a mad dash to put out the flames, carrying bucket after bucket of water across the dirt road. By the time we rescued the kittens–all four of them–the momma cat had already run away. And she never came back for them. I spent weeks carrying kittens with me in a basket to work because they needed to be bottle fed every four hours. I kept telling my family it was temporary–once they were weaned, we were finding homes. We already had one cat in the house. (Another abandoned kitten I had to wean.) But, no, that wasn’t happening. We ended up with five house cats. There are similar dog stories. And people stories.
Truth is, I have trouble saying no to anyone or anything who seems to need me. I will go out of my way to accommodate. Regardless of the effect on me. It pains me to see others in pain and not do anything to help. And there in lies the trouble. It’s not always wise to continue to give beyond personal limits. For example, having too many cats in my house drove me crazy. Finding good homes for some of them would have been wiser than keeping them all. And continuing to give to people who needed me but didn’t appreciate me caused me heartache. On many, many occasions. I’m not saying that I shouldn’t be helpful. It’s just that, like all things, I need to have a balance. Limits. And stick to them. After all, you can’t save the world when you’re losing yourself in the process. And it’s not up to me to save anyone anyway; most people need to learn how to save themselves. But for a person who has an innate desire to help others, to want to ease their pain, or somehow be the person they need me to be, it’s easy to say I’m here for whatever works for you. But really, sometimes, that’s more about me than about them. My need for harmony. My need to feel useful and needed and important to others. Instead, what would be more honest would be for me to say, I’m here for you in this way. And spell it out. Or know when I truly can’t help at all. Because only then I can be effective. And true to myself. I’m learning, slowly. Thankfully.
April 16
You may recognize the first lines of “The Way of the World” by poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox: Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone. It’s true that it’s easy to have friends around you when things are going well; most people can handle the good days.
I’ve been blessed with a large, close family. Regardless of the moments we’ve gotten angry or frustrated with each other, when it comes right down to it, we are there for each other. And we’ve had times over the years when that’s been proven. Times when one or another of us has dropped everything and gone to be with the other. Not every family is that way. I’m lucky mine is.
But I’m also lucky to have friends I feel the same way about, especially since my family is so scattered. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had numerous people extend their condolences over the loss of my father. I’ve gotten cards from unexpected people. Hugs from colleagues. A plant delivered to my house. But what’s touched me most is that I’ve also had several close friends who checked in with me daily, sometimes several times a day. Grief manifests itself in strange ways. I’m not usually an outwardly emotional person. I don’t like to cry in public. I don’t like to draw attention to myself. I’m much more comfortable being the one other people can lean on. But I’ve found myself close to tears periodically with random triggers. A song, a card, a memory. While I feel like I’m doing ok, I know that the grieving process isn’t over. Death has a way of making you reflect not just on the life of the person lost, but on your own life. For me, it’s reminded me of the brevity of our days and reinforced my desire to live a meaningful life. I’m sure this reflection is part of the process, but it also adds another emotional layer to an already stressful event. And I know that for other people, it’s not always easy to know what to say or do for someone during this time. Therefore, I’m so grateful to have people in my life who look beyond my I’m ok and check on me anyway. It means more to me than they probably realized.
April 15: Meiosis
April is national poetry month. Yay! If you follow this blog, you know I like writing poetry. Unfortunately, a lot of my writing is a bit heavy or dark, seeing as how I use it as an emotional release. I’m back to feeling a bit more upbeat, so I found one for today that I wrote about my oldest, when she was still small. She’s an adult now, and I recognize how true these sentiments are. Watching children grow up is both an amazing and bittersweet joy, knowing that one day they will leave. Still, it’s something I’m thankful for every day.
And so it began, not with a bang
but a sigh and a groan from the
heaviness of love. Unprepared and
frightened we were by our creation
for intermittent cries in the night hung
sluggish in the morning
while dull eyes filled with the rays on
the bed. For months, day and night
had no pattern except for the constant
growth of love. Until, finally,
comfort overtook confusion.
Maturity blossomed with the first
fever and swelled with excited cries.
Yes, she’s ours,
Yes, she’s mine.
Dazed with pride we no longer felt
the heaviness–numb to the first fear
of ownership we watched our creation
grow, belying the years with her speed,
a shiny foil to our stagnant selves.
Nostalgia infused the hours of being a
spectator to a miracle with dim reminders
that one day we will not be enough;
our love will snap like a taut rubber
band and leave us dangling apart.
April 14
I’m just going to say it and get it out there. It snowed today. Not just a few flakes, but an accumulation of white stuff everywhere. I even had to scrape my car. While this is not something I’m thankful for (quite the opposite), I am thankful that I know it won’t last. Unlike the polar vortex of the winter months, this is just Spring’s funny little pre-Easter joke. Therefore, I’m not letting it get me down. I’m not dragging my winter coats back out of the closet either. I’ll double-up on jackets if I must for a couple of days, but I refuse to bundle up in a down stadium coat any longer. Instead, I’ll continue to enjoy the lovely flowers sitting on my kitchen island, waiting to be planted outside. The smell of lilies, hyacinths, tulips and daffodils fills my kitchen, reminding me that the white outside will be gone in a flash. In the meantime, I have spring inside, waiting.
melissagratitude 