really really real love

I was thinking today that I  have officially lived more of my life with my hubby than without.  It is kind of a strange feeling being so connected to one person for so long. He has seen me at my best and Lord knows he has seen me at  my worst and I have been witness to his extremes too.  Yet most of our lives together have been those every day, in-between times when extreme seems a funny and foreign word.

My sweet William is the best person I have ever met.  I am still thankful and oft times incredulous that he picked me to be his wife.  He is honest and hard working and handsome and loyal and kind. He is a wonderful father, son, brother, and friend.  He calms me and soothes my soul.  I still get butterflies when he kisses me.  Oh, the list could go on....

But.

I wanted to share this one extra special thing.
(the everyday miracle found in the long-term, slogging out a life together thing)
he knows me;
really really real knows me. i really really real know him too.

And.

He is on the red-eye. Coming home.

really really real love. 
luckie me.

I was walking down 44...

A friend of mine was recently lost in the woods; really a bit lost for at least a few hours.  She was alone in a place that was beautiful, but foreign to her, and once she realized she was lost, I am sure the scenery was the last thing on her mind.  She got discombobulated ( for lack of a better word-  really, is there a better word in the world than discombobulated? ) when all the trails looked the same. 

But, no worries my friends, this story has a happy ending!

SHE FOUND HER WAY HOME!

We were very relieved that she was safe and sound, but that is not why I tell this story.

Of course, there are everyday miracles already embedded in the trial above, but there is a deeper miracle to be discovered. Keep reading.

Did she cry about her long afternoon?  Did she complain?
Nope.

She chose to sing about her crazy day.  She chose to laugh and move on. She chose to not let the past few hours ruin the future few hours.  Aah, the everyday miracle of choice...

Walking down 44

(sing these lines to any really twangy country song that pops in your head and FYI Reeders is an amazing country bar in the middle of nowhere)


While I was walking down 44,
I knocked on just about every door,
I hollered and walked and hollered some more,
My heart was tired and my feet were sore.

 Then I saw with sheer delight,
The sign with the antlers and specials of Bud Light,
It gave me strength, it gave me might
it was
Reeders in the distance. 

(chorus)
Reeders, Reeders,
Where lost friends are found,
Reeders, Reeders,
I'm so glad you are around. 

A big reframe with an extra little twist- lovely!

Kate in the morning

My kids are all grown up.
I love the ages they are now- bursting with enthusiasm and possibility, able to live their own lives, able to have a glass of wine with dinner and discuss politics and other adult things.
But, sometimes, I miss their younger days when we had them all to ourselves to snuggle with and play with and read to and do the million other little things that families do every day.

Today I was cleaning out a stack of old papers and found a poem I wrote about my daughter Kate many years ago.  I was struck with a memory so profound and wonderful that I had to share.

Katie in the Morning
Hardly contained in her little girl shell,
Words and feelings 
         pop out of every pore-
                   making her feet grow
                   making her face change.

(she is all opinions and beauty.  she is her father's biggest worry.)

But, 
In my eyes she will always be
Katie in the morning
Looking for a hug and 
   eating cereal-
All birdsnests and brown eyes.

And here is the everyday miracle, the heart remembers.  It remembers and smiles, long after life has moved on.

Taste the Purple

I love lilacs. When I see them, purple and fragrant, hanging in great gobs of lovely, they make my heart beat.  They bring sweet smiles to my face.  They remind me to breathe deeply.

I passed many lilacs today and had to stop and pull over at one particularly beautiful bunch.  I pulled off to the side of the road, snuck up to a lilac bush and stuck my head all the way in.  I was so far in the flowers I could taste the purple at the back of my throat and nose.  Lilac purple is sweet and overwhelming (but in a good way).

I did some thinking with my head in those flowers- clear thinking without the mish mash of other obligations and distractions. I like to think of it as "lilac thinking" and it was very profound as it tends to be.

I thought,
Even in all my imperfections, I still try.
Even in all the heartache in this world, I still love and am amazed at the love given to me.
Even in the middle of this neighborhood, there is such beauty.

I smiled and inhaled the purple and remembered that it is all a gift.

Then I smiled and giggled and got back in my car and hoped the lilac owner didn't mind me sharing the bounty of the spring that happened to be on his lawn.

Deep purple happiness- an everyday (April and May) miracle!

Sleeping Beauty

To Whom It May Concern:

I wrote this poem a few years back for my husband to thank him for putting up with such a tumultuous and noisy wife.

 I looked for it everywhere this morning as I actually WOKE MYSELF from a dead sleep with a snore/snort/roll over laugh. 

Me,    in bed.
Not the sweet, quiet beauty 
   With pouty lips and smooth cheek to pillow-
But, instead,
  A wild, tangled mess of noise and movement.
Waking from unconscious battles with loud snorts,
Only to fall back into heated, one-sided debates.

No inanimate dreaming for me.

Amazing then,
   That every day when I wake (far from my side and wrapped tight in every cover),
    That he still smiles at me, amused and tender,
As if he had spent a night of pleasurable ease with some
demure lover.

Love that survives all the big,all the little, and all the annoying moments of each day.
Ladies and gentlemen of the court, that is one awesomely wonderful miracle.

Sweet dreams,
Sleeping Beauty

A Sweet Refrain

  I was in the checkout line, looking a little rough in a rugged ponytail, worn tee, and old yoga pants.  I was feeling rough on the inside too.  Actually, I think jagged is a better descriptor.

Yep, I was feeling jagged inside; sharp, pointy, scratchy, and craggy.
 I imagined myself as a thousand pointed icicles putting Greek yogurt on the checkout conveyor belt.  (a ridiculous feat to be sure.)

I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath

and listened.

There it was under the muzac of the store, under my icicles of ego glass, under my attempts to reframe....

 peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

Ah, there it was. My needed sweet refrain.

peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

I smiled at the kid in the cart behind me bugging his mom for a candy bar.

I was not jagged.  (Of course the ponytail and the "I need to do laundry" ensemble had not changed.  I was kind of hoping that such an internal epiphany would equal a Wonder Woman outfit but no such luck.)


I asked those who love me to pray for peace this past week.  I meant for them to pray for those who were lost and hurting.

Luckie me, my loved ones are generous in all things including prayer.

Luckie me, God's intent was louder than the piped in Beyonce in Giant.

Salient

"Sometimes, I just need to see your face and smush your cheeks," my friend said to me.

I smiled, ear to ear, making my cheeks noticeably more smushable. "Sometimes I just need to see your face too."

And then it hit me.
The point of all points.
The big one.
The truth known to everyone (even the ones that act like they don't know it.)

There is no greater gift than to look at each person with love.
 


 A visit with a dear friend, a basket of fried pickles, and a friendly reminder of a salient truth; pretty profound  for Texas Roadhouse on a Tuesday.  Gotta love those everyday miracles.