Today was exhausting. I left my home to help a friend at around 9:00am, and my day continued on in such a way that I didn’t actually come home until about 8:30 at night. Busy days like this make symptoms of chronic illness intensify. The aches are bigger, the sleepy is is all encompassing, the dropping everything under the sun is more.
The crowning moment of this unending day was when I picked up dinner, as we do too often since I am too sleepy/sore/exhausted/numb to cook. I set the carrier of beverages upon the laundry basket of clean clothes sitting in the passenger seat that has been there now for two days, and is too heavy to haul inside for both my spouse and I until our respective backs un-kink. I turned the corner, and the entirety of the contents of those beverages upturned and emptied their contents on the entirety of this large basket of clean laundry.
With my son in the backseat concerned about his soda, I became an utter ass, throwing a temper tantrum befitting a toddler, grumbling and slamming doors. That’s the woman I regret being, and am grateful that I see her less now that my narcolepsy is known and under treatment.
We returned to the drive-thru and I requested the beverages again, explaining I emptied them all on my laundry as kindly as I could. I drove to the window to have my card refused and Jonathan replaced them without charge. And as we drove away my sweet son says from the back seat,
“I’m glad I still have lucky days. I’m sorry your lucky days are over, Mom.”
I will tell you now what I told him. Do you really think my lucky days are over? This morning, I woke up to a peaceful home, and even though it’s painful, I can still walk. I walked into my kitchen and ground fresh beans for my coffee because I am blessed that a way was made for a roof over my head and electricity to do so.
I woke my sweet boy who arose from his bed in a beautiful mood with a grateful heart that he loves his teacher and his mom packed candy in his shark snacker like he asked. A bus came to my door to take him to school. A car came to my door to take his sister to her therapeutic preschool.
I had a small, but enjoyable few moments with Daddy before I left for the day. Although I missed him all day I am joyful for the moments I had. I enjoyed time with five different friends today as we went about our errands, received a gift for thanksgiving and blessed a Thirty-One sister with a tote exchange for one of her customers.
When I had a bad moment in my car, and lost my cool, the sweetest person in the world, sitting in my back seat calmly responded with, “I’m sorry that happened, Mom.” I am lucky that I had enough to purchase dinner in the first place, for the free drink replacement, for the family and friends and relationships I have.
Do you still think me un-lucky? Thankfully, my son did not. I hope you don’t either. Thankful and blessed doesn’t mean life is perfect or easy or even spectacular. It means that I can see the good, and the universe sees me and returns more of what I think and what seek.
The Happy Typist 