I have had a billion ideas for new blogs over the last month. I have accomplished something that I have never thought was possible. I have had thousands of thoughts running through my head, which has been fun, sad, exciting, anxiety provoking and so much more. It’s all been good, though. I’m evolving, moving forward, even though my brain tries to hijack [insert mode of transportation here] every day.
I love that I’m using big words again, rambling on about things I am passionate about again. I’m sure those around me are not thrilled, but hey IT’S ME….and in the words of Jonathon Larson, “Take me or Leave Me”….”Love me for what I am, not what I am meant to be.” I ain’t meant to be nothing. Nothing good comes when I force it.
I’m grateful for where I am today even though it can really stink Shaq size shoes sometimes. It can really be horrible. It is okay, though, something new is always just around the bend. My job to keep remembering that.
On the topic of gratitude, which I have written about a great deal in the last few months, I think of my Mom. This a no-brainer, you say. Your mom is a great human being. Indeed, true. She has her own way with her emotions. She is not sensitive as I am. That is a good thing. Nothing in my life or hers would have been possible if she were sensitive or overly emotive. Sometimes we can be a bad match on an emotional level, but I love her more than I love myself. She boosts me up in ways I can only hope I can some day be able to do for another person (cue Josh Groban “You Raise Me Up”). With all this said…here’s my story.
Mom and I talk every day, more likely twice a day. We talk about what is going on, wish each other well and strive to remember to end the phone call with an “I love you.” So, yes, it’s corny, but we like it. One day last week she called and told me about a meeting she was in. The woman running the meeting asked everyone to say something they were thankful or grateful for during this holiday season. People were weeping about loved ones and children, dogs, cats and canaries (alright maybe not canaries). This is just the kind of sap fest that Mom (and quite frankly, I too, do not like). It is not genuine. These are not true celebrations of the “intangibles,” as my mother likes to put it, in our lives. So it comes time for her to speak. She is not a woman that ever wants to share her personal or family life with the people with whom she works. I hold myself to a similar standard, but certainly am not as strict about it. She stated she was grateful for the opportunity to work and improve the lives of people for whom she works for and with. Then she said she was thankful for small reminders of friends, family and silly stories, specifically the moths that flew to the window to greet her that early morning before work. I laughed when she mentioned the moths; she had sent me a picture via email of the moths at the windows that morning (the email time stamped at 4:30AM). When I was younger we called one of the moths that would cling to the warmth of the window, Freddie. The others were simply “his friends.” In that moment she was thinking of me, my brother and my Dad when we were all a younger family, living together under one roof. I was pretty blown away that she opened up that much at this meeting. I was proud of her and the story certainly warmed my heart. This was, I guess, her, Proustian, “Remembrances of Things Past” moment. The Madeleine.
I am grateful for these small things now, too. These reminders, whether physical or conjured up in my mind, that fill me with contentment and connection. I, too, am struggling with ways to apropriately express them with others. A different way for each audience. A different way for every mood I experience. Always bearing in mind, cautious kindness.
Mom’s story, my story are all ones of growth. We never stop growing. We never stop coping. We never stop evolving. Each moment is an opportunity. And I am always looking forward to the next.