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Tears, Rain and Things That Don't Make Me Cry 10/6/2010 6:07:03 PM
I am sitting here in the most beautiful office overlooking Millcreek as it's raining. The tree in front of my office window was just about as tall as me, the last time I saw it. Now, that same tree reaches with long sturdy branches across the manicured lawn, an umbrella shading delicate flowers and ivy running along the creek bed. The creek's current cascades over stream rocks creating a rushing sound that soothes me while the raindrops dance on the water's surface. All of this I am able to view through the framed large window in front of me as I sit here warm, awed and peaceful.
Well, almost peaceful...I just was stabbed by a very old piece of wood panelling, a tiny sliver imbedded in my ring fingertip. It's painful reminder pulls me back from my serenity each time I tap an L or O or the period key.
My life is sometimes like that. I realized today what an amazing gift I have to choose joy almost unconsciously as I go through the events of my day. Joy that is alot like the view outside my window: natural, peaceful and fulfilling. That is...until something stabs my consciousness and reminds me that all of life isn't pleasant.
I don't think these types of "reminders" are meant to destroy our experiences, although they easily could when focussed upon long enough. My grandma is a perfect example of this. She is 97 years young. She cannot hear, has suffered several heart attacks (and still occasionaly mentions the "headache right here" - pointing to her chest - that "bothered me just a little last night but it's gone now", along with the many accumulating maladies that accompany a 90+ year old body. These little "stabs" in her life do not seem to trouble her as much as my sliver is troubling me as I type this blog. Her days are filled with studying old journals, writing new journals, organizing photos and family history, football and tatting (not in that order). Right now I can hear her upstairs watching old home movies put onto DVD's, the volume so loud the neighbors can sing along with Glenn Miller's Orchestra as it plays. She is laughing and cheering and pointing to faces of loved ones long gone from this life, waiting for her to join them. No, those little "stabs" in her life don't distract her. Life is "grand" as she would put it, should you ask.
