The Joy of Sneezing

Today marks the one year anniversary of my Grandma Graham's (and dear friend's) passing on from this world and in to a place far greater.

My grandma was an extraordinary woman. She always encouraged me in my love of writing and of music, two things that bring such joy to me. I examine my life today and know that it would not be nearly as fulfilled had it not been for her strong influence.

I watched my grandma's body slowly be taken over by Parkinson's Disease. It was over a course of some twenty plus years, but the amazing thing was that her mind stayed extremely sharp until perhaps the last couple of months.

As I watched her shaking hand try to get her fork up to her mouth, I thought how miserable her life must be. She couldn't button up her shirts or her bras anymore and no more necklaces with the little clasps that she loved. She was stuck inside now and needed someone nearby almost twenty-four/seven. 

She needed someone to assist her while she used the bathroom, yet humbled herself in doing so.

We literally had to scrape pureed food between her jittering teeth and the top of the spoon to get nutrients into her body.

In the midst of all my feeling sorry for her, I happened to sneeze. 

My grandma looked at me with a dreamy smile and asked, "Don't you just love to sneeze? I've never understood those people who try to hold their sneezes in; it's really fun to sneeze." 

And that's when I realized, the human spirit can lose all things, but if they let go of their sense of joy and gratitude, life becomes toilsome. 

My grandma held on to that truth with trembling hands.

Today I remember not her infirmities, but her strength and dignity.

I hope your day is full of the joy of sneezing and all of life's other little wonders.

Just one of those days

Today, I am feeling rather slothful. I want to lie on the couch and eat fattening foods while I watch HGTV. It was just one of those days where I couldn't get motivated.

I did, however, go on a bike ride to the bank with Graham in tow...and then I realized from the big sign on the window that it was, in fact, Columbus Day. As a side note, the tellers at the bank are very friendly when I go through the drive-thru on my bicycle.

After dinner, I ate the kids' sour patch kids that I told them they couldn't have because it would give them cavities (don't feel too sorry for them; they didn't eat their dinner, but I did eat mine...and they were asleep by this time). But there were no red ones! Only yellow and green. That's when I knew it was just time to throw in the towel and call it a day.

Tomorrow: a day full of new adventures...

Good night, everyone.

Becoming Whole

I am a sinner. I fall short in so many ways. And yet, I know that there is good within me. As John Steinbeck says in East of Eden of one of his characters, "[He] is packed to the top with good and evil". When I read that phrase, it stirred something deep inside of me. There is a literary term that also captures this juxtaposition of light and dark, called chiaroscuro.

As children, we are taught that there are good people and there are bad people. But what of the good people that make bad choices? And is there not a drop of good in those people locked away in prisons? I believe that there is. Debbie Ford, author and self-help guru has some fascinating things to say about this in her book, "The Dark Side of the Light Chasers".

We lead ourselves in to a very precarious place when we think of ourselves as fully one or the other. We are both...striving ultimately to rid ourselves of sin, but to know that we are loved "yet when we [are]sinners".

A Little Something About Bees...

Today, I went on a field trip with my kindergarten-aged daughter to the cider mill. I must say that this is one of my favorite trips of the entire year. I love the smell of apples and donuts just made. If they could take that smell and truly capture it in a Yankee Candle (I know they have great scents, but nothing compares to the real deal), I would put them out of business.

But the real reason why I am writing is because of a fascinating bit of information I heard today: a worker bee produces one twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in his lifetime. One twelfth. In an entire lifetime. I'm sure you've heard all of the old adages like, "Oh, aren't you a busy bee?". Who in the heck cares if they are busy if they don't really accomplish anything? Or do they?

They are, in fact, productive. And what they produce is perfect in its own rite. It is pure and simple. We're thinking quality here, not quantity.

It is inherent to the bee to make honey. The queen bee doesn't invite the worker bee over and say, "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna make some honey and bust your @#!*% for peanuts...okay, forget the peanuts, how about some pollen?". No. Work is in the bee's DNA. The bee was made to work, to create, and to do something of value.

I, too, was made to do these things. But I think my standards may be too high. I want to move mountains each and every day. I have a hundred and one things to do and I want to do them all perfectly...

But the life and determination of the bee sobers me. It inspires me to create something raw, beautiful, unblemished. And this something doesn't have to be over the top, but it does have to be genuine. Even if it is the very smallest feat, it need be honest. If it is a gesture, let it come from my core. If it is a touch, let it be deliberate and meaningful. If I produce something bursting with purity that equates to the bee's one twelfth of a teaspoon...it is enough.