What They Don't Tell You

It's always in the fine print. The little tiny words that no one ever reads. The stuff that pops up just before you click, "I agree to these terms." What terms? Do YOU ever read the fine print? I don't. I mean to. I always tell myself, "Next time I make a purchase, I'll read the terms in advance." But I don't. 

So I'm caught unprepared. I'll admit, I like surprises, true surprises. Something unexpected that touches me. I love the feeling of delight a surprise can deliver. 

I received the most lovely gift this year on Christmas Eve. The gift itself wasn't a surprise, but still, I was caught unprepared. Had I known the depth to which this surprise would touch me, I don't know if I would have (or COULD have) agreed to the terms. Because this wasn't just a surprise--this was a change-your-life-forever-after gift. And how can you prepare for that? Even if someone TELLS you that things will never be the same, can you really comprehend those terms until you are LIVING with them? This was a I-don't-know-how-to-think-how-to-act-how-to-help-with-this surprise. I am unprepared. I should have advice to give, I should have time to give, I should have money to give, I should be better at this. I am unprepared. 

But I do have gratitude and love to give. As the recipient of such a precious, precious gift, I hope to give back as much as this gift has given me. More. I may not have read the terms of this gift in advance, but I hope to show how grateful I am with each action and word. 

I know there will be many more surprises. I won't remember to read the fine print, and I'll feel unprepared. But I'll be grateful and enjoy the unexpected treasures yet to come.

Marching On

Forgive the title pun--yes, it's already March, and I've been absent for awhile. 
Life has offered a variety of positive and negative experiences in the past 2 months, and I'm grateful for all of them. No matter how much I whine, I know I'm still one lucky chick. I still get to wake up every day. I still get to laugh and cry every day. I still get to feel overwhelmed and satisfied. I am still here. I am lucky.

Thanks for the thoughts, hugs, messages, smiles you've sent my way. I'm lucky to know you. I am marching forward, held up by supportive friends, loving family, and the knowledge that I am one lucky chick.  

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

'Tis the season. The season of waiting. The season of anticipation. Every day feels like an intake of breath. 
When does the release happen? Is it when the shopping is done? When the gifts are wrapped and tree decorated? When family gathers to celebrate? Or does it happen the day after, vacuuming the wrapping paper shreds, washing the dirtied dishes, putting the furniture back in place? 
I am a person who feels the post-holiday crash pretty deeply. In the evenings between Christmas day and New Year's Eve, I lean toward wallowing in sappy movies, sappy music, sitting in darkness lit only by tree lights. I take my year apart mentally, analyzing every misstep, listing the changes I will make to move forward. It's not so much a release as a letdown. It's as if there's nothing to look forward to, only things to regret. And that's bullshit. 
I'm learning (ssss--lll--ooo--www--lll--yyy) to keep myself in anticipation. Because there's ALWAYS something coming. I don't mean in the "Oh-I've-got-a-thousand-things-to-get-done!" way. I mean in the "What's-around-this-corner?" way. I'm learning to look forward with curiosity, with eagerness, with openness, instead of with dread, with anxiety, with a feeling of impending doom. 
I am not good with change. I worry. I fret. I dread. I know I won't completely be free of those weights, but I'm determined to look ahead with excitement. I am not patient, but I'm determined to find the joy in the waiting. 
I will inhale and open my eyes.

 


Clip art: http://www.stpaulschestnuthill.org/wp-content/uploads/Advent-Wreath-011.jpg

'Tis the Season

nostalgia       
scents
laughter
warmth
flavors
hugs
blankets
tears
contentment
love

always, love
 

Mile 57

I'm not a runner. But if I was, I think I'd like to be a long distance marathoner. I like the idea of being fast, so short sprints sound appealing, but overall, I think the satisfaction of sticking with something for the long haul sounds like my cup of tea. 

What I'm hoping is to be here for the long haul. I'm of the age where some of my friends are checking out. Not in large numbers, but enough to notice a trend. It's cliche, I know, but it makes you take a look at what's important. And, to me, for now, what's important is the road ahead. I want it to be long and varied. I want it to be picturesque. I want it to be filled with emotion, strong emotion. I want it to be surprising. I want to share it with my girls. I want to share it with my friends. 

I want it to be long. Of course, I'm also picky. I want to be in good health--strong, independent--so that I can enjoy every minute of the marathon. I don't ever want to be a burden. I don't want to make someone else sacrifice just so I can continue the race. 

I just want to be here for a long while. I'd like to maybe stick around for as many years as I've already been here. Maybe during those years, I'll figure out how to fix the things I've wrecked, and how to use the time I have to the fullest, to make the world better. 
While looking ahead to the road stretching out in front of me, I want to be mindful of every footfall. I want to feel every pebble under my running shoe, every jolt of my arthritic joints, every sharp pang of air moving in and out of my lungs. 

I hope it's not too much to ask. I'm at the starting line, ready to take that first step. 
http://pcmlifestyle.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/runningshoes.jpg

Mama Said

Everyone has bad days, bad weeks. Some even have bad years. How do you handle it? 
My mom has been gone a long time now, and yet I want to talk to her almost every day. Nothing in my life is terrible--not even remotely bad. As I've stated repeatedly, I am One Lucky Chick. But I'd still like to talk to my mom. And I'd like to hear about HER day. I'm pretty sure that, though I was an adult when she died, I was so immature that I rarely asked her how SHE was doing, or how HER day went. I was always concerned about me, me, me. I would whine to her about all my earth-shattering problems, and she'd listen and offer advice. 
Actually, now that I really think about, she DIDN'T so much offer advice as give me a kick in the pants! My mom was a take-no-prisoners sort of woman; a "stop whimpering and buck up" girl. Boy, do I admire that now! At the time, I remember thinking, "She's so mean; she's not pampering me and treating me like the princess that I am." Yeah, I was a self-centered brat. I regret never having said, "How are YOU doin', Mom?" I know that if she did share how her day was going, I probably just LOOKED like I was listening, when, in fact, I was most likely thinking about where my boyfriend was and what we'd be up to as soon as I got out of the house.
Nowadays, I tell her how my family is doing. I make jokes with her, I laugh with her. I carry her around in my heart and I can hear her voice saying, "Oh, you bird!" (her favorite catchphrase). And nowadays, I DO ask her, "How's it goin', Mom? What have you been up to?" I'd love to hear what she has to say. I hope she's comfortable, pain-free, and happy. And I hope she knows how fabulous her grandchildren are. And I thank her over and over and over for everything.

Fa La La La Lovely

Happy Holidays to all! I'll admit, until it snowed Friday night, I was in total Grinch mode. I cannot bring myself to feel merry when it doesn't look and feel like a Currier and Ives photo outside. 
But it snowed just enough to look festive, and now I'm in high Christmas spirits. While it's easy to be overwhelmed by the never-ending to-do lists (can I get an "A-MEN?"), once again the prospect of a house filled with giggles, hugs, and loved ones will carry me through the exhaustion.
Christmas music will blast all day, the vacuum, steam cleaner (NEW! Is it wrong that I'm so excited about this?!?), washing machine, and dishwasher will be a-humming, and by tonight, one of the many lists will be tossed. And Wednesday night, the hugs, kisses, and laughs begin! I am SO blessed.
Ho, ho, ho, and to all, a good night!

Finding My Way

I am directionally challenged. It's a bit of a family joke, as I once went out for morning doughnuts and ended up in another state. Yeah, without the doughnuts. Nice drive, but not what I meant to do.


Sometimes I truly enjoy the twists and turns in the road that take me in a new direction. This morning, for example, I had a 10:00 a.m. appointment, but left the house at 7:30 thinking I'd run some errands first and finish just in time. I ended up with some time to kill, so I wound my way through some neighboring towns I'd never visited.  It was a lovely morning for a drive, and I found two nature areas that provided a few minutes of respite. So it was great. 


On the other side of the coin, though, are the twists and turns that make me uneasy. The kind where I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know what to expect, and I don't really want to go into something new! I know those happen to everyone--the old chestnut, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." But you'd think by this age---OLD---I'd be better prepared to go with the flow, and take changes in stride. Nope, not me. I throw a hissy fit, I curl up in a ball, I lose sleep. WTF.


I intend to work on my ability to just go with it. I love learning, and I know that each unexpected twist is an opportunity, so I'm going to strive to look for the lesson.  I'm going to go back to my meditation/mantra breathing. I want to ease on down the road, not careen wildly, trying to get back on the "right" path. 


Okay, now where did I put my keys? 

Thank you

New Year's Eve. Another chance to say thank you. Thank you for my girls. Thank you for my family. Thank you for my friends. Thank you for my job. Thank you for a warm house, more than enough food and clothing, an embarrassment of riches.

Thank you for the crisp air. Thank you for the sounds of nature. Thank you for my problems, thank you for my joys.

Happy New Year, everyone.

It's been a long, been a long time

I realize I'm only using this blog to remind myself to be grateful daily, but I apologize for being absent for the entire month of November!! I thought a lot about blogging, but I didn't actually DO it. Bad girl!

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, but I continue to be thankful every minute of every day. The sounds of my girls laughing after the big dinner stays in my head, making me so grateful for my beautiful family. The sheer abundance of food we have is both embarrassing and humbling. The warmth of the house, the new windows, the wood stoves--I'm lucky to have them all, and I'm grateful.

It didn't snow for my birthday--which is my selfish birthday wish every year-- but I got to spend a good chunk of the day walking through the beautiful grounds where our upcoming family wedding will take place, watching the excitement on the faces of my daughter and her fiancee', and seeing the bond between two sisters grow as we excitedly talked through some plans.

This week, I listened proudly as my youngest daughter described her new job, and as she marveled at her own responsibility, I marveled with her, and was grateful.

I'm alive, I'm healthy, my girls are independent, smart, creative women. I love my life, I love my family and friends. I'm so lucky, so grateful.