Ah, you caught me. I pushed ‘publish’ rather than save on my blog the other day, and despite noting my mistake almost immediately, my rather grumpy Monday post landed in Google reader. I love you for your concern and kindness, but I also know some words are better left unsaid. I will probably struggle with my father’s actions for the rest of my life, but I’ve learned explanation usually brings more criticism than understanding. Happily, simply typing the words alleviates the pain– like rolling up a message in a bottle and sending it out to sea….
If you know me, you know I feel guilty any time I’m unhappy. Life is so good and glorious and fleeting. My children are around me for a few short years I don’t want to waste a single day. Still, none of us can truly appreciate the people we love every moment they are with us. We just can’t; but I try.
May is a month of beauty, but also busyness and emotion. The school year is winding up for everyone– full of performances and field trips, final projects and class parties. Suddenly, the yard needs attention (but responds beautifully to the slightest effort). Gabe and Mary roll like puppies on the floor, while Hans and Xander (finished with testing) watch science videos and solve 4×4 and 5×5 Rubik’s cubes. Ben landed his dream job teaching Italian to new missionaries at the MTC where he spots Stefan several times a week.
And Stefan is happy, so happy. He’s studying thirteen hours a day, cracking jokes and making friends.
For once, I’ve balanced my photography with my life– I’ve taken just enough jobs to keep me happy, but not so many I’m overwhelmed.
I should be completely and blissfully satisfied, but I seem to need a ‘handle with care’ sticker on my forehead. Likely it’s the lack of my usual runner’s high since a miserable injury has pushed me off the road and into a ten pound weight gain. Perhaps it’s the backlash from my extraordinary April? My sister believes every May is hard because it’s the month we watched our mother die.
But as the ‘leg-whisperer’ said as she massaged my damaged muscles and tendons, “You need to give in to the injury. Stop trying to do everything. Be especially kind to yourself.”
So I have. Navigating our busy days, but slipping in small pleasures wherever I find them.
Leaving the kitchen a mess and chasing the bunny around the yard with the kids. Riding my bike up Millcreek Canyon and trying not to miss my running buddies’ chatter. Turning up the music loud, loud, LOUD! With Erik out of town, falling asleep to the sound of Gabe and Mary giggling in my bed, drinking in their laughter. Calling Ben every day to chat– just because I can. Resting on the couch while Xander plays his new viola piece. One night, with the boys gone, Mary and I spent thirty minutes videotaping bubbles popping on the grass. Today, I’m eating a lunch entirely of strawberries and milk in my great-great grandmother’s teacup.
We gain happiness through gratitude and service, yes? But drinking in every good thing around me helps too.