Grateful for the love of others

We are at that time in a loved one's life.  One of our fur kids, our babies since we don't have human ones.  He is nearing 15 as best we can tell and is a rescue.  His time is short now and lights are dimming quickly.  The roller coaster of emotion is overwhelming lately. And on this holiday weekend, we hold vigil.  And frankly we pray to God, the angels and our loved ones in Heaven to take him in the twilight of his sleep so that yet again we do not have to make a decision.  

And as our hearts pull hard, our eyes water constantly, our nights are short and we busy ourselves in the beautiful weather of late summer with meaningless chores and movements, we are loved by a couple we have grown close to in the years here.

It is sometimes the simplest of gestures that get you over a hump of sadness.  The smallest things that make you smile and laugh and share time with hearts of the same soul.  Thus was our Saturday afternoon of Labor Day weekend today with Cheri and Rusty.

Cheri had posted on social media that the trick-or-treaters were getting tomatoes this year because they had more than a bumper crop.  I had responded that I'd take whatever she had...I LOVE TOMATOES!  When she sent me a note asking what we were doing for the holiday weekend I told her hanging out because our elder pup was on borrowed time and we wanted to be here for him.  She asked if she and Rusty could stop by around noon.  OF COURSE!

And just like that, this afternoon as I sat in the den watching the little man sleep and busying myself with a crafty kind of project, they came in the back gate complete with lunch.  Those tomatoes I had coveted were in the form of caprese salad and the makin's for BLT sandwiches.  Completed with the hugs and smiles we knew we needed and we saw walking through the back gate.

And as we happily sat on the deck with lunch, I was humbled and marveled at the same time at how blessed we are to have friends who just "got it."  They understand what we are going through, they have been through it.  They know the little man and his story and they love him too.  They knew that a simple lunch on the deck for an hour or so lifts the heart and lets us know that they are with us in spirit and right now.  They knew that the chat, the giggles, the easy talk was our soft place to fall.

Our friend Cindy is here helping us through this tough time too.  She texts me every day asking about the little man.  Giving me suggestions to help him feel easy, feel peace.  She is a soul that when you meet her just exudes love, generates a beautiful energy that puts you at peace.  And knowing this beautiful woman's story, I would never think she would be the soul she is.  But to say I am grateful, we are grateful, is a profound understatement of expression in response to her loving care in helping our fur kid and loving us.

I have found over the last couple of years that my blessings in friendships and relationships have come full into my heart and life and many of those I thought were friends or "family" were simply ghosts in the shadows.  To say that I am grateful for these loved ones, these beautiful souls and hearts who are there for us as we go through the tough times, there are simply not enough words to express how much we love them, treasure them, value them and hold them deeply in our hearts.  There are many nights that as I lay awake watching the little man to see if he is breathing still, watch an episode of Chicago PD as the hubs sleeps in brief stints because he is going through the same feelings, I take inventory of the love we have experienced in the last year or two.

There is an old saying that people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  Truer words were never spoken.  And the love from those in our circle, the love that creates that soft place to fall in sad times, blooms like the flowers in our oasis where we sit with the hummingbirds and petunias each day to gather in the peace of the summer and the beauty we create for ourselves in the yard here.

It's a tough time right now.  And as fall approaches we know what is right behind it making it even harder.  But knowing we have the love in our lives, the support system of people like Cheri and Rusty, the love and grace of Cindy helping us through this oncoming loss, there is such comfort and gratitude.

And as I try very hard to remember to say out loud every single day...Thank you God for my blessings...the infinite number of blessings I've been given.

Grateful for the peace of morning waters

 The summer here has been warm but the hubs and I have enjoyed being on the water early in the morning.  We both row crew and each of us have our own singles.  There is something indescribable about being in that boat in the peace of the water.  It is easy to understand that most people are hooked when they start rowing.

My boat is my baby and it feels like it was made just for me.  And it arrived like a baby, I swear.  I bought it used from a professor in Connecticut in October of 2017.  It was a great deal and he agreed to transport it to Boston for the Head of the Charles regatta where a friend who was racing would allow it on their trailer to come back to me here.  But details got mixed up and that fell through.  He was kind enough then to tell me that he'd "put it to bed" for the winter at his cottage and we'd figure out transport in spring.  I am so grateful for Dr. Bob and his kind effort to help my new baby come home.

April came and thought I had transport set up, it seemed that it was not meant to be because not only was my transport guy in the wind, but the snows on the east coast prevented my professor friend from getting my beloved shell out of its "winter bed."  

So I found another transport and got him engaged and his route would bring him through at the end of July.  We had left the rowing club that had become the "over 40 means girls club" so both of us were "jonesing" for time on the water.  That beautiful shell could not get here quick enough...

It was the day after my birthday and Steve, my transport driver, texted me that he was about a mile away.  By the time I found shoes and opened the garage door, and BOLTED down the driveway screaming, he was pulling up at the end of the driveway.  As I jumped up and down like a 6 year old, he said "Well, you must be Sally!"  It was here, 9 months later, like birthin' a baby!  And the hubs snapped this picture as I laid it in the slings and took its jammies off:

We christened her that night the Harley Jane.  Named after my Dad, Harley and my Mom, Mary Jane.  I love thinking that they ride with me in the mornings.  They would love it.

And the mornings are glorious.  The sun glimmers on the water and the morning fog rises from the water like little feathers lifting off the surface of the lake.  The birds sing announcing the day.  And we walk blades down to the shore before we get the shells off of the top of the Explorer.

The local lake is protected by tree line and is 99% of the time like glass.  It is my perfect row.  I'm not a racer, I'm a cruise director.  I'll row a wimpy Power Ten and stop and watch the little beaver swimming past me with twigs in his mouth.  I'll stroke a bit further and go closer to the fallen trees on the shore and watch the turtles that are as big as dinner plates laying asleep in the morning sun.  I'll stop and watch the hot air balloon coming over the tree line for their morning ride and listen as they fire up to go higher.

It was a bucket list thing, learning to row, and I started rowing at 55. Now, during the pandemic, it is my/our peaceful respite to go to the lake and spend some time cruising the water and seeing the houses with their beautiful gardens, watching the wildlife as they go about their lives.  We row and feel the breeze on our faces while we can knowing that sooner than later the lake will host ice skaters and Christmas decorations.  

We smell the lake taking in every breath with gratitude for time on the water and the peace of enjoying those scents as we row.  We inhale that smell that only a summer lake can have.  We watch the fish jump in front of us and leave the rings of water that disappear just like the fish that was just there a second ago.  We watch mama duck swim with her babies in tow to a spot where all are safe.  

It is a vision that rowers understand...I will stroke the glassy water and marvel at what I think are perfect puddles.  Probably not perfect, but I think they are when I see them in that perfect water.  I am not the rowing athlete, I don't have perfect stroke every time.  I have decent blade depth and sometimes I wiff my starboard because I'm too busy looking at the baby ducks.  But I have the love of the sport and the gratitude for those mornings with beautiful puddles and what feels like perfection with every single stroke.

I am so grateful that during this time when the hubs and I are benched from work that I have had time to get out there.  Grateful for the time with him since he travels so much.  Grateful for peace on the water and...

those perfect puddles!

Take time, find peace, take it in and be grateful.

grateful for the quiet that has us notice the small things...

I woke in the night last night, just like about every night, and journeyed downstairs to lay on the couch and watch Chicago PD reruns.  As I walked down the stairs, my right hand found the railing to hold on to in the dark.  And as I found my way down, my hand ran across a spot I had never felt or noticed before...a "worn" spot in the wood.  A spot that tells of time, experience, familiarity of sorts.

I usually don't reach for the rail or have my hands free because coming downstairs I typically have Marty in my arms.  He's our elder pup, 14 years old at least that we know of (he's a rescue from Cozumel,) with a fused shoulder that allows him to go up stairs but not come down.  I lovingly bundle him in my arms and carry him downstairs nearly every trip.  Not a big deal, like carrying a 25 pound medicine ball in my arms with an abundance of love.

But last night I had already brought him down to go outside and then laid him on one of the soft round clouds that are the puppy beds in front of the fireplace and he gently drifted back to sleep.  I went up to get my phone that had been on my night table to lurk social media while I laid on the couch.  As I came down I felt the worn spot...

I started thinking about the "worn spots" in my life.  The familiar, the comfort, the peace that are my "worn spots" that I know are there from me reaching to, the same spots, over the years in my life.

My gal pals...I've known Kathy since pre-school and we text occasionally but we connect on social media all the time.  I adore her and watching her girls marry and have their own babies on social media has been a joy.  I've known BJ since 5th grade and it is much the same with her.  I went to Hebrew school with her in grade school, drank beer and had crazy times in high school with her.  She is my "do it badass" gal pal.  And Jude, who is always there, always has had my back, shared the great and the horrible, knows ALL the good and bad of me and loves me no matter what.  And the one thing I just realized that I do not share with all of these loves is that they are all breast cancer survivors.  Courageous and amazing women.

My bridesmaids from 25 years ago who I am still close to.  My family members and some of my hubs family that are so good to me.  Many of my students from over the last 20 years and many of my sorority girls that are still so very loved and present and are "worn spots" with the love and comfort they provide.

My hubs, who is my rock and source of joy.  In about 2 weeks we will celebrate our 25th anniversary.   I simply would not be whole without him.  My pups, who never have enough time with us in their lives but every single moment provide love and joy for hubs and I.  As I type Miss Party Pants is snoring under my left arm and Marty is sleeping on his cloud.  The 4 in spirit watch over them with love.

My slippers, my robe, my Sarah Flaherty sweater from Inis Mor (Sarah is the delightful tiny Irish woman who hand-knitted it,) my favorite wool hat I bought in Reykjavik, or my favorite glasses.  My fave yoga tights and top (WONDER WOMAN!) or my fave sweatshirt (ROWING.)  My garden, my patio and deck oasis.  My favorite movies...you know those that you watch and the memories flood back and fill your heart to overflowing and remind you of loves and times that are so beautiful.  The ones that remind you of who you watched them with.

My music...that recording of the Springsteen concert we went to in Dublin, Ireland in May of 2016.  Both the official audio and the Youtube videos of it that I can't watch enough because it was SO FREAKING FUN!  Same with all of the Jimmy Buffett concerts over the years that saw us dressed in tropical attire with parrots on our heads...  any of the music that is that "worn spot" that brings joy at the first note.

The hubs' dinners...I can always count on his food to be amazing (he's had chef training!) and it's a source of comfort always.  We always make time for dinner together.  The smells from our kitchen are rich with love and as I sit and talk to him over a glass of our favorite.  I am grateful that we are able to share these times together to talk and laugh.

The fire in the fireplace on cold nights that brings such peace.  And living here, we've had them in July!  The warmth and visual of flames dancing ...

Sunday mornings...a "worn spot" that I treasure.  We get up and watch CBS Sunday morning and then have a leisurely breakfast.

Cozumel, our island oasis for 25 years at least twice a year.  It holds our love and our friends and people we look to as family.  It doesn't matter what month we choose to go or how long we are there, it is a huge part of our heart as soon as we walk onto the tarmac we smell the sea air and sink into peace and comfort.

I recall a blanket from childhood that I think my brother took when I cleaned out Mom and Dad's house.  A red and black wool thing I wrapped myself in and felt a sense of quiet and comfort when it was needed most.


My parents' house...the one I grew up in.  To this day my heart aches that I agreed so quickly to sell it.  But I didn't know what else to do and they had both just died...6 months apart.  I was overwhelmed.


What are your "worn spots" that you are grateful for...the ones always there to comfort you, love you, bring you peace?  The ones that have created those soft spots in your life, the grooves that are smooth and easy places to find, especially in trying times like these.  The ones you don't even realize are your "worn spots" until you find them with a surprise or unknowingly run your hand across them in your walk down the stairs.   Maybe the ones we take for granted and don't notice.

This time in our lives is forcing us to slow down, hopefully to notice.  To ground ourselves more.  To enrich our lives with more love, kindness, patience and peace.  To reach out and truly appreciate those "worn spots" that remind us of the beautiful things in our lives that our hands touch so often...and maybe need to love and appreciate more.

There are so many more...but in the night as I found that spot at my right hand, I began to think of all of the puzzle pieces that are so much love in my life for so long.  It is easy to forget in our constant rush of life.  The "worn spots" that are always there for us in comfort and joy, peace and laughter.  And many times at our worst moment to hold us close before we fall.

Find your "worn spots" during this time and in the peace of your heart embrace them with your love.  They may not always be there.  Love them all for the beauty, joy and laughter they bring to your life.

As I close my yoga classes with, and as my yoga mentor taught me,
May your thoughts be loving,
May your words be kind,
May you have peace in your heart and actions always.

The light in me honors the light in you ... with love.

Grateful for the words of a long ago friend

It's been a long time since I wrote about gratitude and what I am grateful for.  Life has been busy, lots going on.  It's easy to rush forward like a train to the next stop without taking time to look around and breathe.  And then sometimes you get a trigger to just slow down and ponder good things.

To stroll into this post, I must recognize a friend from high school who was my trigger today.  He is/was then a quiet and kind person.  Peaceful to be around when my high school world was painful and chaotic and I worked hard not to show it.  He was an athlete and I think would be/was considered in the popular crowd.  One of the people who was a truly nice guy and easy to be around.

Fast forward to our last reunion.  I had not seen him in DECADES.  He and I stood at a high table talking and having a cocktail as one classmate shared with us that she was back as part of her healing from addiction and she shared some stories with us.  I was shocked hearing all of this because she seemed so pulled together back then and she is scary smart.  He too began to share some stories from his high school days also that were something no one really knew about, things that had to be very painful to go through back then.  I too shared a bit of what I had felt and went through during those 4 years that no one really realized and how I felt in such pain and so alone.  My kind friend uttered words that stopped me in mid-swig of a beer...he said "we always think we are the only ones, that we are always alone in our pain."

How very true.

So hit the FF button again.  Today on social media I posted a random thread and comments strung out.  He called me out on the paradox of my comments about my favorite boss who long ago went to prison and as I explained my feelings about the person having been very good to me despite being a criminal, he made a comment that hit me as profound for so many of us.  He said, "And it's a great thing to remember that all of us are much more than our worst moment."

How very true my friend, once again.

We all have a worst moment.  We wish for a do-over.  My 8 years of high school and college were a blur of pain and anguish that carried over for decades.  As I told my artist friend Suzy not long ago, I deeply wanted to be a Monet treasure and every day was a Jackson Pollock.  It took a long time to get to peace with much of it.  Much of it is still a canvas being recreated in loving glory.

And I wish those people who never understood... classmates and sorority sisters, co-workers and colleagues, family and friends...they could hear those words and understand "all of us are much more than our worst moment."  That person they knew so long ago is so far gone and this one is the one whose soul is a bright light moving into great things ahead.  Those worst moments have created great ones and I am blessed beyond anything I could hope for.

As I taught my noon yoga class today at the local university, I pondered deeply the words I always say to them during their practice..."breathe in your gratitude and find the things you are grateful for today.  Thank your body for all it let you do today and fill your heart with that gratitude."  I didn't just say them today, I truly felt them.  And I was blessed at the end to have the 3 males in the class tell me as they packed up to leave that they loved class and would never miss Wednesdays unless they had to work.  Gratitude all around.



And as hurried as life has been lately dealing with dead cell phones and computers not working and snow and ice in our neck of the woods.  The grey days of winter and the bone chilling cold...I am warmly reminded of the amazing kind heart and profoundly meaningful words of my pal Tom.  And to him I say what I say closing my yoga classes and what I have heard from another loving yogi "the light and teacher in me honors the light and the teacher in you."  Tom, you have taught me good stuff today dude, you were MY teacher! I am so grateful for you.

Here's to do-overs for our worst moments and the grace to give others the same.  I am blessed with people who have seen past mine and I am so very grateful for them.