It’s been a rough summer for me. There I said it. Writing hasn’t gone well. My garden was a colossal failure this year due to over saturation thanks to the near-Monsoon rain we had (now we’re in drought conditions, go figure). We had death in our family. And I have not spoken to my son in 135 days now. Yes, I’m counting. I’m a mom, a very heartbroken mom at that. If I was still a drinking girl, I’m sure there’d be a box of wine in my refrigerator right now…or not as I may have imbibed and drank it all last night and be in need of finding the nearest Walmart to replenish this morning. But, alas, the drink is no longer in my bag of tricks as to how to mend a broken heart. Cakes and biscuits? That’s another story altogether, and most likely why my favorite fall pants do not fit me today. I’ll have to work on that.
Y’all…it never fails. Just when I want to roll over and call it good, eat my way through yet one more box of cookies, something catches my eye and attention to remind me that no matter how rough things are going, there was probably a time one can remember that things were rougher. Yesterday, I saw a meme somewhere with an uncredited quote that knocked me back on my heels and made me take pause. For the first time in 135ish days, I knew I didn’t want another cookie and I wanted to get up today and get on my treadmill (I’m headed that way in a few minutes).
Remember where you were when you prayed for what you have now…
Well. Alrighty then. That’s an uncomfortable proposition.
I have more than most and don’t want for a thing now. I have a loving husband who’d give his right arm for me, who provides financially and emotionally like nobody’s business so that I might sit about working on my writing and running my quilting business, and eating my way though biscuits all summer while I sulk and cry. I have a more than adequate house with a bonus carriage house on the property in the majestic Appalachians. I drive a new car. I have more than enough clothes (even if my favorite pants are too tight this morning), and I sleep on luxurious sheets every night.
When I prayed for all this, to be delivered from my predicament nigh on 25 years ago, I was working in a factory for barely over minimum wage, raising a child alone, eating mac-and-cheese—and it wasn’t Kraft brand, folks!–, and living in a dinky trailer I’d purchased used from a friend who was upgrading. And I had it good compared to a lot of other paupers in the world. I still had food to eat, a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. My child was cared for without assistance. But I knew I wanted a little better standard of living than what I was providing for us. I wanted a real house, and a newer vehicle, and a man that cared and who wouldn’t abandon us when the going got a little tough.
I was indeed delivered. I have all I ever prayed for and more, and yet here I’ve spent the better part of my summer with my chin on the ground and my ass dragging because life has delivered all the emotional goop in one heaping pile that none of us ever really want to deal with.
Today I choose to pick my chin up and heave my ever-expanding ass into a wheelbarrow and get on the treadmill, figuratively and literally, and move on. Today I choose to be happy with what I have, which is more than I deserve really and way more than a lot of others have. Today I dry my eyes and blow my nose and choose to be happy. Today I remember from whence I came, and I see I’ve come a long way from that place and need to exert some gratitude to the powers that be for that.
Sometimes it takes a swift kick in the ass to put things back into perspective. Sometimes it takes a simple meme with a one sentence uncredited quote. Sometimes, they are one in the same.