It’s the morning. I really can’t recap a day that hasn’t been completed. The sun is too low in the east to give me a reason to sit in my favorite chair (the sagging, broken recliner) and write.
But I’m going to write. Because I just finished reading today’s posts on Humans of New York in which the photographer has captured images and stories of people in the pediatric’s center, the cancer ward.
My daughter is laying on the couch, next to me. Per her request, we are watching Star Wars: A New Hope. My son just came downstairs. He didn’t buy me a gift because I had requested nothing. But he has invited me out for a special dinner or lunch, his treat. Right now, he just came down the stairs, iPod in hand, and stood next to the open front door, staring out the glass patio door, his face a perfect profile of youth and beauty and new, chiseled thoughtfulness.
My life is good. Especially when I just finished reading a story about a mother whose son is thirteen, maybe fourteen years-old. And when he was one, he was diagnosed with blindness because of an inoperable brain tumor in the center of his brain. A tumor that has caused over a thousand seizures. A tumor that has rendered their lives into a momentary paralysis as the child lives from day to day and hope to hope that his tumor won’t grow.
Another parent posted a picture of her holding her four year-old son. His tiny, diminutive body is almost overshadowed by the tube coming out of his throat because of the tracheotomy. The tumor in his brain has gone terminal. The family was told last winter that the boy had three months to live, and we are now in May. The mother posted that each day is a new trial and a new ending.
I am so sheltered in this easy life that I lead. Yeah, I have my problems. Yeah, I get frustrated. I have hours of grading sitting next to me on the floor and I should be dedicating those hours to the grading. And I will. Later. I want to use the sunshine and go outside and work in my garden.
Those are the choices that circumvent my life and give me a bit of tension because I have to choose between work and fun on a day off.
Wah, wah, I’m so sad.
On this Mother’s Day, my mom is home in Germany and I didn’t send her a card because I suck at being a daughter. But when we video chatted, I managed to shout, “Happy Mother’s Day” just as the connection was made so I win at life. And I will write my mother a special message and will send her special voice messages to show her, once more, how much I love her.
Because I love my mother. I really, really do. I just suck at remembering to do the right things in terms of cards and sentimentalia.
As I live in my quiet, comfortable world, I am saturated in the knowledge that no matter what has been tossed at me in terms of problems and conflicts, I have it very, very easy. And, for this, I am very, very grateful. I have messes galore and hobbies/projects that are coming out of my ears. I am surrounded by junk and things I don’t want and I could be grumpy and frustrated.
My son and daughter don’t do their chores without me prodding and nagging them.
My husband collects clutter and says he has to keep everything because someday he might need it.
I have a book collection that I don’t know if I’ll ever truly read.
Oh, my life is so hard.
What a load of crap.
No, my life isn’t hard. And I won’t allow myself to see it as this. Instead, I am going to celebrate the little successes of my life. My children are growing and are as normal as the weirdness in my family will allow. Both of my parents are alive and well and I love them and they love me. Both of my husband’s parents are alive and well and I love them and they love me. My brother and his family are alive and well and I love them and they love me. My brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law and their families are alive and well and I love them and they love me.
My world is good. My world is peaceful. My life is amazing and I am happy and, for now, I am content. And the only discontentment that I am currently experiencing is the sense that I need to work on my novel or work in my garden or work on my grading.
I am happy. It’s only 10:15 in the morning on Mother’s Day and already, I am happy and content. All is good.
Thank you to all the moms out there in the world. Thank you to all the dads who are the moms to their children, biological or not. Thank you to all those out there who give of themselves to their children so that they may move forward on their lives and be successful.
It’s a good day. And I am lucky to be part of it.