To sum up my long absence:
1. I forgot how to use my words.
2. I misplaced my sense of humor.
3. My bed developed magical magnetic powers, coupled with this siren’s call: “Just pull the covers over your head. Voila. No more problems!”
Had I been operating on an emotional level a little greater than a three year old, I might have recognized this as a trick.
I may or may not have forgotten how to make a peanut butter sandwich. (You must admit, there is some degree of difficulty there: if we count opening TWO jars, and figuring out which slice of bread gets peanut butter, and which gets jelly.)
I’ve had a post-it note on my computer (fridge, mirror, closet, and most importantly…bed) with this quote from Winston Churchill: When you are going through hell…DON’T STOP.
Thank you for your wonderful encouraging comments and letters. So many days YOU kept me going. (Without one timely display of my great appreciation! Um. Sorry? Yeah, I didn’t think that would really help.)
Other days it was my friends.
Daisy, texting me: WHEN IN THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO POST ON YOUR BLOG?!? Write something, dammit!
Bella: Hey. The story you just told me? THAT would be a great blog post. (Pause) How long has it been now?
Hilary: I think people might miss you?
Daisy: PUT SOMETHING ON THE DAMN BLOG! Who cares if it sucks?
Alice (Feigning innocence): Oh. Are you still writing the blog? What’s on it now?
Bella: See? Another funny story. Perfect for the blog.
Hilary: You’ll get there. Or maybe not. But it’s okay!
Daisy: PROMISE ME. YOU WILL PUT SOMETHING UP ON THE BLOG. PROMISE!! Just tell people you’re not dead. I’m going to bug you till you promise. FYI next year doesn’t count.
I promised Daisy.
Our family has been through a lot of life changes. And surprise, we’re not dead! (It took me awhile to grasp the concept: Change does not = Death.)
I re-entered life in baby steps. Here’s my (tiny) funny story:
I was riding Woodrow for Bella, and ponying Hudson. It was rainy, cold and both wanted to go. Both are experts on either end of the pony experience. I wasn’t worried about speeding up. Off we went into a happy canter, Hudson staying perfectly at my knee.
I laughed when Hudson, still being the perfect pony horse, began bucking, bouncing and otherwise expressing joy on the end of his lead. Never pulling, never moving out of his “being ponied” bubble.
I was completely unconcerned.
Because in my gloom, I’d forgotten joy is contagious. Especially bucking joy.
Within seconds, Woodrow joined in (“Hey, if its okay for him, it must be okay for me, right?”).
Luckily, he still had on his “I’m still working” manners hat. He just lifted his rear 12 inches and kicked out. Or I would have been eating dirt. A lot of dirt. The boy is a TANK. And he out bucks any horse I’ve ever seen. (When turned out.)
It was a good reminder joy is contagious, and I need to be around folks who buck, leap, and kick out.
Which would be YOU.