gratitude
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One of my favorite pictures of J+me. Early days of our relationship.
My forever Valentine.
Such a funny day anyway. Can’t I just love him and show that love any old day of the year? For no reason at all?
Xox, g
28jan22
Today was the last weekday of John’s annual ‘half’ – and because his company does quotas and such in six month increments, it was the last day of crunch time to get deals in to hit sales goals. I’ve learned an enormous amount about corporate America and sales from listening to John talk about work. It’s all fascinating but I am also glad to not be in the rat race anymore.
On the plus side, John hit the goals he wanted to hit yesterday, so today was just icing on the cake. He’s had a really good run since about late May, and we’ve been very lucky. I’ve been supremely lucky because for the first time since I stopped working, I haven’t felt any pressure or need to go back and earn a paycheck. That’s a huge stress relief for a woman with an autoimmune disease that’s triggered by inflammation brought on by stress.
It also began snowing this morning and has continued throughout the day into the evening. It’s beautiful, soft falling snow. Keeping life quiet, but not panicked by massive accumulation. Even the grocery store wasn’t a hot mess when I stopped to get Starbucks this morning.
Today felt calm and cozy. We raised the thermostat two degrees because things just weren’t warming up (even with some space heaters) and now the house feels so warm it makes me constantly want to fall asleep. Haha!
Life feels strangely okay – not the okay you say through a strained smile, but the actual okay of feeling secure and at ease. I don’t trust it – I’ve had too many body swerve moments to feel safe. But just to have this moment – it is a gift.
Xox, g
27jan22
I drove to a breakfast with some lady friends this morning and the beauty of the sun shining through frosted tree branches took my breath away. It made me stop and consider how much beauty exists in the small moments of life.
I guess beauty shows up in different ways to different people. To me, it was the pale corn yellow of a winter sun and the sparkling of ice, it was the warmth of my steering wheel and the sound of the music playing in my car, snaking its way into my heart and the tap tap tap of my fingers. It was the hug of greeting from my friends, the conversations we shared. It was the first sip of my chai and the comfort of my couch and blankets when I arrived home, the fatigue pulsing so deeply it was in my bones.
Beauty was the nudging of Lucy’s nose, her head rubbing softly on my legs to make sure I was okay, to tell me she loved me. It was dancing candles in the early darkness of a winter night, shared popcorn and a movie with my love, cake pops and frizzy water and end of night walks around the curved neighborhood sidewalks.
Beauty was everywhere for me today. It emanated from my life, from the love of my friends and the love of my family and the deep, indescribable love of my husband and my puppy. Beauty triumphed today in the winter sunshine.
Xox, g
26jan22
Two years ago on February 3rd, John’s older brother Alan died.
It was sudden and awful and my memories of that time are a blur — aided mostly by my overly sparse Instagram posts. His death was followed far too closely by Covid and the pandemic and quarantine so sometimes, it feels like a lifetime away.
Today would be his forty second birthday. (Yes, that makes him younger than me). I don’t want to diminish that we lost him far too soon, but when I think about Alan now, I mostly feel joy. I feel him with us a lot and I believe that he’s watching over John with a mindful eye.
The thing about Alan was that he had cerebral palsy. And he was non-verbal. And we didn’t see him a lot – something I could kick myself for now, but I also can’t go back and change. I loved seeing him when we did – it was so patently obvious how much he loved his brother. His eyes filled with love and then utter sadness when we inevitably left. We would stand and talk to him – tell him stories about our lives, tease him about childhood memories. He would withhold kisses from John until he felt John had properly paid penance for not being around.
Alan’s kisses were life. His joy was infectious – his laughter, his smile, his waving arms. I know – if he could – he’d have given us an earful. He’d tease and tell embarrassing stories. He’d harass his little brother.
But that was never their relationship.
So I believe that now – he is doing his brotherly duty. He is giving John strength when he doesn’t believe he has any. He is reassuring him when life feels uncertain and overwhelming. He is lifting him up when he can and walking beside him when that’s what John needs. I feel Alan with us. During the day when something funny happens, and at night when I light candles for he and my mother. He makes me feel safe.
I miss him but I also know he is with us.
Happy Birthday, my brother. I love you.
Xox, g
23jan22
I went to a talk today about the gut+brain connection. It was hosted by a friend of mine at our mutual yoga studio (where she also teaches a movement class because she’s amazing and is a dance movement therapist and incredibly well-rounded). I am so glad that I went – on a Sunday afternoon, in January.
The talk ended with the idea of community and how a person’s community affects their microbiome and therefore their gut and their brain health. The entire talk was utterly fascinating but as I talked with my friends and made plans for lunch dates and breakfast dates, the importance of community was driven home.
Five years ago my community of people was very different than my community of people today. Some of that is due to circumstance – I stopped working and commuting into the city. Some of it was on purpose – me understanding my own worth and what I should be looking for in friends.
But it is incredibly interesting how my community has so significantly changed my life. In such a positive way.
Anyway. Surround yourself with the energy that makes you light up from the inside. Find the people who re-charge your battery. And then nurture and take care of those friendships. Because they are life.
Xox, g
18jan22
Sometimes when I’m beyond tired (more tired than normal MS tired… like, can‘t focus, can’t move, have no motivation tired) I wander down memory lane. This is inevitably aided by the socials, and mostly FB, because that’s where I’m connected to all the people I used to know across my life.
Memory lane can be beautiful and nostalgic but it can also be painful. Today I had two polar opposite experiences. I was reminded of the death of a friend – far too young and now, twenty years ago. I remember when it happened. We’d fallen apart as friends because we were young and I’d moved away halfway through high school and boys and girls – in my experience – aren’t that good at keeping in touch when proximity is no longer a factor. He died in a car accident near State College. It was a gut punch. Surreal. Young people dying always is, but a young person that I knew …. Harder to comprehend. And I had no one to talk about it with because our friendship had been in those golden years of middle school. That time before cell phones and hormones and all the complications that came later. When we just played street hockey and had sleepovers and went sledding when it snowed. He was the first person I told about getting tested for MS. I remember that. Anyway. It was another gut punch moment, seeing the old newspaper article from the Daily Collegian re-posted by a mutual friend. My mind wandered and I was back there for a moment, on Heather Hill, trudging through the woods, playing tag. Standing in rollerblades telling him about my tests. Life is crazy and surreal and here I am, twenty years later, married with two houses and a nice car. And he didn’t have the opportunity to do any of that. How is that fair? How is that decided? It shakes the foundations of humanity.
And then later – a simple ‘like’ by an old college roommate. Someone I haven’t seen or spoken to in over a decade …. Memories of college flooding back, smiling at our shared history and how sharply our lives diverged following Penn State. How we are virtual strangers to each other now, our bond that brief period of time we shared at that formative time in life.
Both men I’m glad I knew back then. Such a strange juxtaposition.
Xox, g
17jan22
A day can contain so many things and yet, seem insignificant in the grand scheme of life.
We drove home today. It was flurrying when we left and snowed intermittently along the way. The mountains hazy in the distance – gray and snow filled, black trees against stark white. The gas station that serves as our midway point was only accepting cash (a temporary issue per the papers posted to all the doors) but we luckily had some so we grabbed some food. It was necessary. Moments when small things – like the twenty stuffed in one of our wallets – becomes vital.
The truck glided down the road, moving faster than it felt, humming quietly but not raging. A much different experience than the Jeep Truck (who remained unnamed) and Bucky before him. We giggled as we discovered new ‘secrets’ – the way the wipers worked and the lumbar support built into both the driver and passenger seats. But we didn’t talk much – it was one of those drives. Gray and quiet and steady. Strangely familiar but also new. Comforting.
The joy of our second house is that coming home doesn’t mean massive loads of laundry and hours of unpacking. It usually means taking Lucy for a good walk and unpacking the cooler. Today we eschewed working out for resting – curling up and watching some movies while eating a homemade dinner.
We watched the end of “The Tender Bar” (begun before Ben’s last game but unfinished because after four hours of painful football we just didn’t have the energy to finish it) and “Coda.” Both movies so simple but so powerful. I watched the climactic scene of “Coda” and memories rushed back – of the day I sang in an audition, years and years ago. What I wore, the fact that my mother and I drove through a snow storm to be there… or maybe it was to get home. I can’t remember anymore and it doesn’t really matter. My heart squeezed thinking of those moments – long forgotten but now fresh, of how my mother supported me and my dreams. How she willed most of them to come true. How she was always right about the ones that I shouldn’t have pined for. How she was always right about most things.
It was just a day among other days, filled with small details and routine actions. And it was a testament to the life John and I have built and the people we used to be who grew into the people we are now. That’s how life shapes itself in my mind now. Tiny building blocks growing into new and unexpected things.
Singers who no longer sing. Writers who long to write. People just being people to the best of their ability.
Xox, g
16jan22
There’s snow on the forecast for tonight. We’ve run our errands – and most importantly of all, gotten coffee. And more sparkling water (we realized last night we were down to our last four cans … which for us is danger danger low). So now we’re home, about to take Lucy for a nice long neighborhood walk and get settled in for the snow.
While we were out and about (basically driving around some back roads while we sipped our hot beverages) we got on the subject of Baker. Baker is one of husby’s closest friends and I have known him since almost the beginning of husby and me. Last summer I finally met his wife and she’s amazing. Of course she is, she couldn’t be anything else. I joked for a long time that she didn’t exist because it was over a decade before I met her but she does and she lives up to all the hype. Of course she does. She’s Baker’s other half and he’s just a really great guy.
Anyway. Husby ended up calling and we chatted for a little. Hopefully we will see them soon — the house in Bellefonte is (obviously) much closer to Pittsburgh than Downingtown ever will be and it makes seeing our Pittsburgh friends easier.
It made me think about friendship. Mine, husby’s …. Ours.
I have several amazing female friends but I don’t have many. I used to feel self-conscious about that because shouldn’t I have more? Wasn’t friendship like life — more is clearly better? But the older I get and the more time I notch on my belt in this life, the more I inherently understand that the friendships I have — with my husband first and foremost but also with the women I call sisters — are what make life sweet, worthwhile and full. And I don’t need a million of them, I only need a few really good ones.
Both husband and I are very lucky in our friendships. With our chosen people, the ones we share our time and our thoughts with. They are our family, our people. Our safety net. And we are very lucky.
I’d write more but I have gotten interrupted a million times (Lucy is very persistent) and now I’ve completely lost my train of thought. Ooof.
Xox, g
Day 361
It’s been a weird month.
This morning, a Monday, I got up, put on the same type of clothing I always put on (workout gear) and began the day. Even though husband has been laid up and living in his office for the past week. Even though there was nothing to do, nowhere to go. Even though I was feeling adrift.
And now, as I sit on the couch, sipping my chai as snow softly drifts to the ground, I feel at peace. Life isn’t easy. Life can be pretty unfair and difficult and destabilizing. I think I front-loaded a lot of my trauma — even MS doesn’t feel bad every day all day. But maybe it all has a little more to do with awareness than anything else. Being present, having the ability to realize that life *can* happen to me, or I can live. It’s up to me.
I am always tired. True. But not so tired I can’t live. And there’s maybe a little more planning and thought that goes into my travel, my movements through the world. But I get to do those things with husby and for that, I am eternally grateful. I get to do those things, full stop. That is a blessing.
Life is about learning and growing. And doing it the best we all can within the world we create for ourselves. I think I’m doing my best. I think I’m learning and growing and finding peace in my own truths, my own choices.
Xoxo, g
Day 77
There’s nothing quite like sitting down with a full chai latte and catching up with an old friend. Even if it’s to find out she’s moving away and even if it’s only on the phone instead of in person (this is the current status quo for Covid, anyway).
I’m not always “good” at friendships. I don’t do all the things — the cards and the gifts and calling regularly. But even so, i have incredible female friends and I know it. I am grateful for it. I put in as much effort as I know how to, as comes naturally to me. I love them all indescribably. Deeply and fully. And they accept me for me, which is such a blessing.
Life has gifted me friends along the journey, women (& men) who understand me, who listen to me, who teach me and inspire me. Today’s phone call was a reminder of all the things that happen along the road of life for which I can (& should!) be thankful.
So tonight I’ll research the Hudson Valley and listen to Folklore and look forward to the next time our paths cross. A moment we will inevitably plan and a moment I will relish because this friendship rose out of the ashes of years of hard work and sacrifice. And it is a gift.
Xox, g
D5 Creation