Something to Smile About

Yesterday, a kind soul arrived at my door bearing treasures from the home state.  Our cousin and her husband were traveling south and had some extra room so she thoughtfully asked my mom if there was anything she wanted to send down to me.  My mom extended the offer to my dad and two boxes and three Christmas wreaths made the trek down. 

My Christmas wreath has been hung on the inside of my door with care in hopes that by Christmas the needles will still be there.  The first year that I was here, my aunt nicely gave me a wreath made with real greens that I hung on the outside of my door which promptly turned brown and had to be taken down before Christmas.  The box from my dad came with instructions to wait until Christmas to open.  The labeling on the box says its a metal cutting chop saw so I'm pretty excited about opening that! 

The box from my mom came with instructions that it could be opened because it contained both wrapped Christmas presents and stuff I could have now.  I wasn't sure what I would find inside as my mom had threatened to pack up everything that I left at her house when I moved.  What I found was a pleasant surprise. 

This cookie jar was given to my mom and I 20 years ago when we moved into our new house by one of my good friends and her sister.  Since my mom is not a baker, it was very thoughtful of her to send this to me.  You see, not only does it have sentimental value, I do like to bake.  And since moving here I have actually been putting the $200 potato masher to use. 

One Christmas, years ago, I begged and pleaded for a Kitchen Aid stand mixer which my mom generously got for me.  The problem was no matter where I lived, there just wasn't a home on the counter for it and so it got put in cupboard.  And used rarely.  Mostly just for making a big batch of mashed potatoes.  So the joke became that it was a rather expensive potato masher, the $200 kind to be exact.  When I made the move here, it came with me and has always had a home on the counter.  That means it actually gets used and not just for making potatoes.  I like to bake and do so far more regularly than I have in the past.  And now I have a treasured cookie jar to put those baked goods in.  That's something to smile about.

Big thanks to my mom and Verna for the gift of this little moment.  Much love!

Me Too

After a strong start to keeping up with my blog entries, I have obviously been off the grid for a while.  The truth is, the last month has taken a lot out of me.  Previously, I wrote about grief as a personal journey.  What I hadn't fully comprehended then is how that journey can effect others or maybe even more so how emotionally charged (or draining) it can be when it crosses paths with another person's grief.

Something that has been helping me process the last few weeks and even the past two years, is a blog I found.  Interestingly I happened upon it a week or two before my stepmom passed.  It is written by the male half of country music duo, Joey & Rory.  I watched them years ago as they came on the music scene trying to win a recording contract on a show called Can You Duet?  (At least I think that was the name.)  They are a married couple, who I don't think won the show, but went on to do good things musically anyway.  Though I hadn't followed what they were up to for years, the article that caught my eye and lead me to Rory's blog was about Joey deciding not to have anymore treatment for cancer.  And while I didn't even know she had been battling cancer, I did know what it was like to get a phone call with the same news.  No more treatment.  The blog gives honest accounts of what it has been like for both of them, holding on to hope under the reality of a terminal diagnosis.  Joey has a bright spirit and though the cancer is taking so much, it hasn't taken her shine.  That is how my stepmom was too.  I call it grace.

Though we'd all like to think that bad stuff doesn't happen to us or our families, the reality is it does.  And when those things do happen, if we are brave enough to honestly share our experiences - like Joey & Rory are doing - it creates a connection.  It allows people sharing in a similar struggle to say, me too.  I know how you feel.  I've been there too.  And in that little moment, when the me too connection is made, it lightens the burden just a little a bit.

Here is the link to Rory's blog:
thislifeilive.com

Down a Road We Must Go

On a mild October day in New England last week, a great lady was laid to rest.

My stepmom waged a two year battle against pancreatic cancer and though it was a fight she knew she would never win, that didn't stop her from trying.  From the time of her diagnosis, I struggled with being so far away and knowing that I wouldn't be there to help.  And then I came to the conclusion that this didn't happen when I lived nearby so there must be a reason I was meant to handle it from afar.  So I called more often to check in, sent things in the mail to put a smile on her face and visited as often as I could.

Now, as we grieve the loss, I am left again to figure out how to do that from afar.  To live and work where no one knew my stepmom means there are not those constant little reminders that she's gone.  It also means there's no one to say hey, remember the time Lois did this or said that with.  At times like these, I think it's not so much the greater void left by the person that hurts the most, it's the little moments that sneak up on you.  Last week when I made the trip north for the services, I started my journey with one of those little moments.  Whenever I traveled I would always text my stepmom updates along the way because she liked to track my progress.  Whether he wanted them or not, my brother got those texts this trip because it was too hard not to have someone to keep posted.

Grief is a winding road and it is a personal journey.  It can be a cherished memory, a tear sliding down our cheek or a disproportionate response to something benign.  It is a path we walk with the love and support of friends and family.  It is a path, at times, we walk alone.  There is no right or wrong way of passage on this journey.  It is a collection of little moments that we navigate as they come.

In sad times, I choose to think of it as if it were a coin.  On one side sadness, and on the other side gratitude.  Because in order to feel sad about the loss of something, we have had the opportunity to experience the joy of knowing it and that is something to be grateful for. 
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The Worm

As I sit here on a Saturday afternoon, watching inspirational videos that bring tears to my eyes, like this one...

I feel compelled to share an inspirational video of my own that I took this week.  What you are about to see is footage of my dog Jak, doing his second favorite activity next to eating.  Before we moved, he would perform his signature dance move, the worm, in the snow.  He adapted his move to the warmer climate by seeking out the perfect spot of blush grass.

For almost nine years now, Jak is my reason to get out of bed in the morning and my reason to get out in walk even on the days when I'd rather not.  He is always happy, easy going and follows up most meals by eating cardboard for dessert.  His satisfaction in the seemingly little things, like a roll in the grass, make him my everyday reminder how the little moments make life big.

Walking Home

Last week I was having breakfast at my favorite spot.  It's a little out of the way cafe with outdoor seating.  There was an older man with his small dog sitting at the next table and we finished our meals at about the same time.  He commented about what a nice place it is and I had to agree.  This segued into him telling me a little about his life.  How he'd been in the Air Force stationed in Alaska.  He told me about what it's like to live in Alaska and how his son lives there now.

How long the conversation went on, I'm not exactly sure, 10-15 minutes, perhaps longer.  It was my day off and I had a full to do list waiting for me which I easily could've excused myself to get to.  But another thought prevailed in my head.  This guy is someone's dad and I have a dad who has no trouble engaging in conversation.  And somewhere, at some point, some kind stranger, or acquaintance or friend has chatted with my dad when I'm sure he/she had a to do list to get to.  As I drove away that day I kept thinking of a quote I'd seen by Ram Dass.

A conversation I long ago overheard between two co-workers has always stuck with me.  One was in need of a ride to pick up his car from the garage and he was looking for someone that lived near there so as not to be an inconvenience.  For the co-worker I heard him ask it would've been somewhat out of her way but she said she could run an errand in that area and would give him a ride.  Not wanting someone to be put out in any way, he tried to decline and what she said still resonates with me all these years later.  "We've all needed a ride somewhere at some point in our lives, it's no problem."  What a simple truth.  In the little moment it was a ride, but in the big picture, it was helping a fellow human being get home.

A kindness extended to someone else's dad is a kindness extended to my own dad.  A ride given to a colleague is a ride given to us or a loved one somewhere down the road.  Though our paths may vary greatly, we are all here doing the best we can to live each day to the fullest and on any given day a kindness we extend to another is a step toward walking each other home.

The Greatest

In a little moment (that can feel like a hot minute) our perception of a situation can totally change.  And even if the situation hasn't actually changed, because how we see it has, it can wreak havoc on our minds.  Recently I found myself in this scenario and my mind was immediately on a downward spiral.  My illusion of certainty had been shattered leaving me slowly going under into a black sea of the unknown.

It was during this time of uncertainty that this Albert Einstein quote showed up in my life.

This resonated deeply with me as I tried to figure out how I would now I approach the said situation.  Perhaps I knew all along what I needed to do was to push myself forward and this quote was just affirmation of that.  It took me a few days to gather my courage because rising to the next level meant I had to make myself vulnerable by asking a question I wasn't guaranteed I'd like the answer to.

One of my own personal philosophies is that life is about taking leaps.  And when you take a leap, whether you hit the ground running or land flat on your bum you have still catapulted yourself forward from where you were.  I took the leap, I asked the question and I'd say I landed on both feet which I'd see was a decent outcome.

There's a Kenny Rogers' song from the early 2000's entitled "The Greatest".  It's the kind of song that makes you smile.  This blog entry had already been percolating in my mind when I heard this song and realized it sums it up perfectly.   As the song starts, there's a little boy alone in a field with his bat and ball.  He tells himself he is the greatest player then he throws the ball in the air, swings and misses.  He is not phased by this and again throws the ball up, gives it his all, swings and misses.

"He makes no excuses he shows no fear
He just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says "I am the greatest when the game is on the line"
And he gives his all one last time."

So again he throws the ball up, gives it his best shot, misses and that's strike 3.  The song goes on to say that his mom calls him home for supper and as he picks up stuff to go, he says...

"I am the greatest, that is a fact,
But even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"

And that my friends, is solving a problem by pushing yourself to the next level.  It is not always easy, or perhaps more accurately, it is usually not easy to take that leap but in order to grow it is necessary.

Choosing You

About a month ago, I had an interaction with a friend that turned awkward fast with the potential to not end well.  A thoughtless comment was made and I easily could've taken it personally.  In that little moment I made two important choices.  First, without being mean or hurtful, I made it clear that I wasn't willing to be a part of whatever this was.  (I think that may be called a healthy boundary but I struggle with those so I could be wrong.)  And the second choice I made was to push myself past the comment and continue the conversation.  At the time those seemed like compassionate choices which on the surface were seemingly made to the benefit of my friend.  What I didn't realize was those choices were also a benefit to me.

During a recent trip home, I found myself involved in a situation that was a mixture of stubbornness, hurt pride and doing the right thing.  As I stood in a corn patch trying to make my case for doing the right thing, I remembered the above scenario and realized the person I was trying to reason with was not in a place to make a compassionate choice.  Hurt pride is a lot to overcome.  And so after saying what I felt needed to be said, I gave the stubborn person a hug and said I care about you no matter what you decide and took myself out of the situation. 

The thing about making a compassionate choice regarding a fellow human being is that you are also choosing yourself.  It is so hard not to take stuff personally, I mean let's be real.  And it is even harder to draw those healthy boundaries where you have to make it clear to someone that you care about them and you are there for them but you are NOT in whatever this is with them.  That's choosing you.  It's taking a step forward instead of taking a step back and getting caught in someone else's hang ups.

Although I couldn't exactly see it that day with my friend, I have been offered the clarity since.  Choosing compassion is choosing you.  It is expanding yourself instead of shrinking down.  It is offering love and kindness to humankind.  And I believe that benefits everyone.

 

Welcome!

If you followed me here from old blog then you already know that my last informative post was from May at which time I alluded to some possible changes in my work situation.  Those changes have finally panned out and as of this week I have been promoted to assistant manager and now only have one job. 

In retrospect I have come to realize that working 6 days a week for over a year has been exhausting - physically, mentally and spiritually.  Thankfully as humans we have the capacity to be resilient and I know that with some TLC I can rejuvenate my body, mind and spirit.

With this blog I intend to share the how little moments become great teachers and make life expand into a bigger and better existence.  If you are a new follower welcome, if you have followed my blog before, welcome back and thanks for the support.  Writing is one of my greatest creative outlets and I look forward to getting back to it here.