I have about 30 pages of text to read and 15 pages of papers to write this week, so I should be working during this naptime. But. One of Jameson's songs is on the radio and outside the sun in shining, the golden leaves are slowly floating down from the trees to cover the ground in a blanket of color, there's a fire burning in the fireplace and I've got a clean kitchen and a cup of hot tea in front of me. There is so much good right here right now.
In the business of life -and oh my, how busy is gets- its so easy to just jump into crisis mode and focus on everything that need to be done. But then you just miss all the really important stuff. And there is so much good right here right now.
And I know that there are so many harder days coming soon. The clouds will roll in and the rain will soak me to the bone.
But right now, in this moment, the sun is filtering through the golden trees and the birds are singing and I'm just going to sit here drinking my peppermint tea and being thankful for all these gifts big and small in my life right.now. I'm still counting gifts, even if I rarely remember to write them down. But these gifts...the seafood in my fridge, the husband who still loves me, the coffee, the warmth of my home, the community of friends, the mercy and grace of God who never gives up on me, the new galoshes arriving Wednesday...big and small, this noticing and thanking process, its like a bank account of joy. And the more I put in, the bigger the account gets. And when I go through a season of less, a season of sadness, I'm still making interest even if there aren't any recent deposits. It all adds up.
Thanksgiving is two weeks away. It's also the due date of the baby we lost four and a half years ago, that first spring after we lost Jameson. I didn't think it would still get to me, this baby that never was. The baby that if I had, I wouldn't have my Little Lady. But I still remember and I still miss the baby I never got to hold.
And oh how I miss my J. The holidays always seem to make it harder to breathe. That black hole inside me seems to grow and the whole world loses its luster. But just as we remember and wait for the return of the sun when it goes behind a cloud, I will remember the joy and look for it still.
So today, even though I have a million things to do, I'm just going to be still, right here and look around me and count my gifts. The heirloom quilt on my couch. The ugly wool socks on my feet. The restless napper down the hall. The dishwasher humming away in the kitchen. Blue skies with fluffy white clouds. Getting to follow my dreams and go to school. Having a safe, warm home. Being able to take a full, deep breath. The gifts are endless. And on a day like today, when I can see just how much good there is, I'm going to do my best to see it all and save it for a rainy day.