A good friend once wrote me a note
during a difficult time in my life that read, “Good people deserve to be happy,
and you are good people.” I received it
sometime during 2005 (I believe) and I still have it
tucked away in a box of special memories.
I go to this box on occasion and pull things out, reading over them and
remembering; evoking feelings and tears that I am typically too busy for.
I understand that life is full of
both good and bad. I am fully aware of
the ‘God will not lead you to it without leading you through it’ phrase that
should make me feel better. I accept
with my whole heart that yes, it CAN always be worse. I know these things. Every Debbie Downer and Negative Nancy I’ve
ever had the pleasure to meet knows these things. And yet, I still feel an obligation to say
that an often cheery disposition can not disguise the ugly truth that life is a
struggle.
There are days when my struggles are
too much. I’m simply too stressed, too
anxious, or too emotional to continue with my daily life. My chest feels heavy…my eyes burn and blink
back tears; tears that are sometimes full of anger or disappointment, sadness or
loneliness. Sometimes, they are just
signs of pure exhaustion and defeat: the only white flag I have the energy to
wave. Some days I allow my struggles to define
me and they win.
But there are other days that I
win. There are days that I allow my
life, both the good and the bad combined, to define me. I may feel stressed, sad, or defeated but I
somehow overcome it. I may still feel
that heaviness in my chest but I choose to fight it. On these days, I end up sitting on the attic
steps of my home and reminiscing. Sure,
there are usually still tears; but they are the happy and therapeutic kind.
My special box lives on my attic
steps, along with a lot of other not-so-special junk that has no where better
to be. Oddly enough, the entire time
that I have lived in my home I have found solace in the attic. Maybe it’s because it is the only part of the
house that was built in 1956 that seems to remain unchanged. Or maybe because it’s the only part of the
house that my obsessive cleaning habits know they aren’t welcome. Maybe it’s because all the keepsakes from my
children’s lives are stored there or because you can hear everything going on
in the entire house from those steps.
Whatever the reason, I enjoy it. I go to my favorite spot on the
third-from-the-top step and just sit. I
sit and pilfer through notes that make me laugh, and cards that force me to
realize I have people who care about me.
I read letters from my high school boyfriend and look at pictures my
children have drawn. These things may
all fit into a box (although “fit” may be the wrong word when you see my box) but
they are so much bigger than that box that encompasses them.
Lessons
I learn (over and over again) sitting in my attic:
- Friendships can span years, miles,
and even differences of opinion. How
corny is it that I am reminded of a song I used to sing in Girl Scouts? “Make
new friends, but keep the old…one is silver and the other’s gold.” But seriously, they are.
- If you want to know something,
ask. But be prepared to hear the answer. Know what you will do with it, even before
you ask for it. Make your decision and ‘own
it’…hard as it might be.
- Family is forever. They will love you and forgive you quicker
than anyone. But they can also hurt you
quicker also. And despite your best
efforts, sometimes you will do the same to them.
- Write notes and send cards to people. I honestly think taking the time to tell
someone via ‘snail mail’ that you care about them is a special thing. When my ex-husband passed away, I received a hand
written card from a stranger referencing a bible verse she thought might help ease
my pain. She lived in Richmond, KY and
heard his obituary on the radio. A
little weird? Maybe. More important than
cards I received from close friends and neighbors? No. But it made me smile at the time. And this stranger has a spot in my special
box because of it.
- Joys weigh more than sorrows. Now that is a hard lesson to remember. It’s easier sometimes to believe the
opposite. It’s almost effortless to just
wallow in sadness and bask in the pity of others. But don’t; it will be worth it, I promise. Learn to refuse pity. Either from yourself or others.
- Your life may be full of the very
thing someone else fervently prays for; appreciate it. I have been reminded so often of this. Especially when I look around my attic: it is
full of things my children have accumulated over the years. They make me happy. Also drive me crazy sometimes, but it’s a
happy crazy. J
It is hard to not sound cliché about one’s love for their children, but they
are my soul mates.
- Forgive people. Even when they don’t
ask, forgive them. And also,
yourself…forgive yourself.
Every once in a while, there are
some surprising truths and wonderful things that spring up exactly where you
need them; exactly where you’d put them if life were a script you could
write. And for a fleeting moment…the
world (or at least the tiny little part of the world you can call your own) is
good. Savor those moments. Hold tight to those memories and visit them
often. Stuff them in a box if you must.
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| My box runneth over. How lucky am I? |
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| I was serious about that no cleaning up here rule. |
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| I have started a new box.:) |
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