Sometimes it's just way too easy to get caught up in the negatives, or what you view as negatives, in your life. I have been in a rut the past few weeks wishing some things were different, today I had a wake up call that my life is full of amazing and wonderful things. I have a lot to be thankful for.
Kevin is out of work. Bummer. But, bright side, he could have been out of work over two years ago when the layoffs started. He also is still holding his position with the company he was with and has been given a furlough. This means instead of being at the bottom of a list over a hundred deep for work at the hall that he will be the first one offered work once his company has work to give. Another amazing blessing from this is that he is a full-time dad to Stryder. Stryder gets to have a parent home with him and Kevin and I have complete control over exactly the kind of care and developmental activities that are happening. HUGE reward!
Money is tight right now. Bummer. Bright side, money isn't so tight that we are on the street. We have a roof over our heads, we still have cable, we can afford our utilities and food is not in short supply. Yes, I miss going out and I wish we could have done more for my birthday. But, I'm grateful we aren't facing the decisions and realities that so many other families are facing right now. We have our basic needs and a few of the extras. Not bad at all.
Sometimes avoiding the traffic and taking the back roads home gives you an appreciation for all the things you do have in your life. Seeing the poverty and living conditions of those who are really facing tough decisions tends to give you true perspective.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Papa
I just finished watching Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. It made me miss my Papa.
He was amazing.
He loved me.
I miss him.
Papa's, especially the one's like mine, have a way of making you forget the rest of the world. Papa's find a way to make you think of nothing. With Papa I never had to wonder where I stood in the world. With him I knew I was loved, that I was important and that I made him proud. I never doubted that... not ever. Even when I gave him every reason to change his mind (I wasn't the easiest teenager) I never questioned his love or my place in his heart.
When we knew the end was near and his lucid times were few and far between I asked him questions I knew the answer too. Just to hear the answer again. The last lucid conversation we had I asked him if I had made him proud. I knew I had, he told me enough and made me feel it enough that I didn't really need to ask. But I wanted to hear it one last time. The way he answered is something I'll never forget. He didn't get serious, it was as if my question humored him. He chuckled, smiled wide and answered with a laugh, "Of course you make me proud, what a ridiculous question." He patted my hand and then asked for a sip of water. It was exactly the way I needed the answer to come. It came from his lips as if it was silliness that he even had to say it.
I miss his easy laugh and sly smile. He understood me, in a way I can't describe. But, when I knew I needed it he still made me explain whatever was bothering me or whatever I was trying to figure out. Looking back I see that it was because talking it out is good therapy. He also knew the sweet sound of silence. I'm rarely silent, I always have something to say. But with Papa I found a comfortable silence. The air didn't need to be filled with sounds, I was content to just be with him. Fishing poles and a pocket knife were plenty of noise for a quiet morning. He was the supreme listener and the greatest fisherman I ever knew. He was patient when he needed to be, especially even when he realized I'd never learn to pee outdoors. But, he never let me get away with sassing my grandma. She was a lady, and was to be treated as such. Watching his love for my grandma he taught me that true love does exist. My grandma would always tell me that she hoped I would find someone as special as Papa, who would love me like he loved her.
He made the best hash browns and over easy eggs. He could make a killer sandwich. He taught me that hard work makes you stronger. He was terrible with computers.
He was my Papa, I miss him.
He was amazing.
He loved me.
I miss him.
Papa's, especially the one's like mine, have a way of making you forget the rest of the world. Papa's find a way to make you think of nothing. With Papa I never had to wonder where I stood in the world. With him I knew I was loved, that I was important and that I made him proud. I never doubted that... not ever. Even when I gave him every reason to change his mind (I wasn't the easiest teenager) I never questioned his love or my place in his heart.
When we knew the end was near and his lucid times were few and far between I asked him questions I knew the answer too. Just to hear the answer again. The last lucid conversation we had I asked him if I had made him proud. I knew I had, he told me enough and made me feel it enough that I didn't really need to ask. But I wanted to hear it one last time. The way he answered is something I'll never forget. He didn't get serious, it was as if my question humored him. He chuckled, smiled wide and answered with a laugh, "Of course you make me proud, what a ridiculous question." He patted my hand and then asked for a sip of water. It was exactly the way I needed the answer to come. It came from his lips as if it was silliness that he even had to say it.
I miss his easy laugh and sly smile. He understood me, in a way I can't describe. But, when I knew I needed it he still made me explain whatever was bothering me or whatever I was trying to figure out. Looking back I see that it was because talking it out is good therapy. He also knew the sweet sound of silence. I'm rarely silent, I always have something to say. But with Papa I found a comfortable silence. The air didn't need to be filled with sounds, I was content to just be with him. Fishing poles and a pocket knife were plenty of noise for a quiet morning. He was the supreme listener and the greatest fisherman I ever knew. He was patient when he needed to be, especially even when he realized I'd never learn to pee outdoors. But, he never let me get away with sassing my grandma. She was a lady, and was to be treated as such. Watching his love for my grandma he taught me that true love does exist. My grandma would always tell me that she hoped I would find someone as special as Papa, who would love me like he loved her.
He made the best hash browns and over easy eggs. He could make a killer sandwich. He taught me that hard work makes you stronger. He was terrible with computers.
He was my Papa, I miss him.
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