Posts Tagged ‘gratitude’

‎Up this morning and look out the window to see the snow falling.

Quick hugs and kisses, cereal in a bowl and juice in a cup.

Pull on jeans, curse under my breath.

Teeth brushed, hair combed, two new grey hairs examined and dismayed.

Boots on, hat on, gloves on.

Purse? Check. Grocery list? Check. Hockey equipment? Check.

Into the car and out we go into the snow.

Down the same roads, past the same houses, ‎around the same corners.

Tie the skates, snap the helmet, fill the water bottle. Give a tap on the shoulder pads and tell her to have fun.

Now I sit in the stands, cold butt on a hard wooden bench, shivering, chattering, trying not to spill the tea I hold in my mittened hands.

A regular Saturday morning.

There are probably those who see my life and think it is small.

From time to time I am one of those people.

And then there are times like now, when I can appreciate the small, taste the sweetness of the small like the warm tea on my lips.

‎Wishing for a beautiful, small Saturday.

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Because she taught me not to apologize for who I am.

Because whenever I’m around her, we laugh louder than I ever thought possible, and I don’t even realize it until someone leans over to tell us to keep it down.

Because I don’t have to explain myself to her; I don’t have to give the background or the context.  She gets it because she gets me.

Because she doesn’t realize how a room changes when she walks into it; how everyone is instantly drawn to her.

Because she cheers me on when I need it; and calls me on my shit when I need that too.

Because sometimes I still feel like she’s too cool to be friends with someone like me, but I know she doesn’t think so.

Because she believes I am better than I have ever believed myself to be.

Because she knows that accessories don’t make the outfit, accessories are the outfit.

Because she remembers things I said long after I forget ever saying them.

Because no matter how exhausted she is from taking care of a feisty little girl, she always has time to listen, to answer a text, to reply to a message, to pay attention.

Because she never lets me off the hook.

Because whenever I tell her Jann Arden is coming to town, her response is always “are you getting the tickets, or am I?” even though we’ve already seen her a dozen times.

Because she knows the four best places in the entire world are the library, Michaels, Chapters and Shoppers Drug Mart.

Because she believes in the power of red lipstick.

Because she admits to watching the Kardashians.

Because she sends me little gifts in the mail when I’m feeling down.

Because she makes me want to do great things; and makes me believe that I actually can.

Because she has changed almost everything about her life and yet still stays true to who she is.

Because she knows that celebrity gossip is just as important as world events.

Because she reads amazing books and then tells me about them.

Because she understands the healing power of a cup of tea; and the important role that chocolate should play in everyone’s life.

Because she is an amazing mother who makes no apologies for talking about how hard it is.

Because I can’t ever imagine a day when we will run out of things to talk about.

Because she doesn’t try to smooth over the rough stuff; instead she reaches out her hand and tells me we’ll get through it together.

Because I know she will cry a little when she reads this.

Because I can’t imagine who I would be without her.

Because even though we were born two weeks and hundreds of miles apart, sometimes it feels as though she is the other half of me.

Because she is the best.

Because today is her birthday.

Because I’m thousands of miles away and can’t give her a birthday hug so for now these words will have to do.

Happy birthday my bosom friend.

Because you are special to me every single day; today just seemed like a good day to make sure you know it.

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windows down

windows down

The other nights are about schedules and lists and chores to be done.

The other nights are about lunches to be packed, feet to be washed, clothes to be folded.

The other nights are about neat and tidy, lined up straight, spic and span.

Night after night after night.

But not this night.

This night is about rolling the windows down and turning up the radio.

This night is about taking the long way home so we can listen to just one more song.

This night is about playing drums on the side of the car, hands out the window, wind in our hair.

This night is about singing off key; as loud as we possibly can.

This night is about pulling over to the side of the road just to enjoy the pink sun dipping down behind the trees.

This night is about pajamas that don’t match.

This night is about bypassing the fruit and having ice cream before bed.

This night is about forgetting about those other nights.

Because there will be lots of time for those other nights; but very little time for nights like this.

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make a wish

Today is my birthday.

The big 3-5 to be exact. Not really a milestone birthday but one whose imminent arrival has given me more than a few moments pause over the last year.

I wondered how I would feel when it finally was “the day.” I find my birthday moods vary widely from year to year and are often impossible to predict.

Depressed and angry?

Thoughtful and retrospective?

Ambivalent and uncaring?

It’s really a wonderful birthday surprise to crack open my eyes each year on September 10 and see what wonders await.

So far this one has been a bit of a jumble. In the days leading up to it I thought I had things well in hand. I was feeling optimistic, appreciative and blessed.

That was until yesterday afternoon when the downward spiral commenced.

The voices in my head which, 24 hours earlier, had been kind, supportive and comforting had somehow disappeared. They were instead replaced by ones who mocked my accomplishments (or lack thereof) and shot down all of the hopes and plans I had made for the coming year.

Believe me, the inside of my head has not been a great place to be.

It carried over into this morning. I spent my commute to work berating myself for allowing another year to pass where nothing has changed. I am in the exact same place, doing the exact same things as I was this time last year; only now I’m a year older. Another year gone, never to return. Time wasted, again.

It was not shaping up to be a good day. I feared I would end up spending it bitter and depressed and when my head hit the pillow tonight I would regret another birthday spent wallowing, rather than celebrating.

But thankfully, slowly things began to shift.

I happily accepted my free birthday drink at Starbucks (sometimes it really is the little things) and smiled back at the stranger behind the counter who wished me a happy birthday and genuinely seemed to mean it.

I got hugs and celebratory hugs from friends who were honestly happy for me. I had a quiet lunch with a friend who presented me with a little bag holding a tiny, perfect present, just for me.

And now I’m heading home where I will be met by two little people who will be beyond excited to finally show me their homemade presents and smother me with birthday kisses. They will excitedly offer to help me blow out the 35 candles on my cake and I will laugh and dot each of their noses with a tiny bit of icing.

And I will close my eyes and make a wish, even though I know for a fact that I already have everything I could ever want.

Happy Birthday to me.

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