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Posts Tagged ‘little things’

‎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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‎I’m sitting alone in my car, parked in a parking lot outside an arena. It is a cloudy, windy, dreary day and I watch the bare tree branches blowing this way and that.

Hubby is inside the arena, doing all that stuff that takes place inside arenas. The kids are elsewhere, safe and sound and out of my jurisdiction for the time being.

I am drinking a still-hot cup of tea and reading a magazine, uninterrupted.

It really doesn’t take much to make me happy.

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If only I could have 15 more minutes of sleep. Just 15 more minutes and I would be ready to face the day, and all the moments it holds. If I had those 15 more minutes I could be happy.

If only you didn’t say those words, in that tone, with that look on your face. If you would just take back those words and replace that look with a smile, then I could be happy.

If only I could find that library book, the one that’s due today. Why isn’t it right there on the table where I left it? If only I could keep track of the million pieces of my life, then I could be happy.

If only the kids would just do what I ask, when I ask the very first time. Put on their shoes when I ask, pick up their toys when I ask, go to sleep when I ask. If they would just listen, then I could be happy.

If only that thing that happened all those months ago didn’t happen after all. Then the memories wouldn’t run around in my head on a constant loop, over and over again, and then I could be happy.

If only I could get over it and move on like I’m supposed to. I know that’s what I should do, what I want to do, but I just don’t know how. If only someone would teach me how, then I could be happy.

If only tomorrow was Friday and not Monday. If only it was two weeks from now instead of this week. If only I could fast forward, then I’m sure I could be happy in that moment, as I can’t seem to be in this moment.

If only it were this time last year instead of this time this year. Then I could avoid all the mistakes, all the choices and decisions that led me to this spot. This spot where everything seems difficult and bumpy and foggy. If only I had avoided this spot, then I could be happy.

If only I knew where I was going, knew which path to take, which door to open, which question to answer. If I knew, then I could be happy.

If only things were different; not the things I don’t want to be different but everything else. If those things were different, then I could be happy.

If only everything that was wrong ended up being right, and the sun was shining and I was wearing the right shoes and the sunglasses that don’t rub my nose, then I could be happy.

If only I could stop letting all these little things in life get in the way, because life will always get in the way. Because I know happiness doesn’t come in place of all of those things, it comes in spite of them. I know that, but knowing and doing are two very different things.

If only I could.

If only.

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