Our Susan Mangigian has been doing Thankful Thursday posts for a while now. I’ve always read them, if only to snag a bit of that much needed optimism that permeates each and every one of them. It’s mostly the little things that make up the things to be thankful for in Susan’s posts. Her sweet cuddly puppy, JJ, the hugs of the kids, the sunspot or the strikingly beautiful cherry tree in her front yard. These posts have always made me wistful…
I’ve always had a hard time with the little things. Ever since I can remember, my mind always raced to the immediate or not so immediate imaginary future; I was always lousy at the present. Last week and change brought the little things into focus. My oldest, whom I still call baby D, came for a visit for a few days. First time we saw him since shipping him off to college. We laughed and hugged and D got all sorts of unprovoked and unannounced kisses.
The boys played catch and talked for hours. No wisdom was imparted that is going to help D succeed in school or in life. Nothing that was useful outside of everybody getting loved up, and Jon and I provisioning dinners that have always been D’s favorites, down to the mint and chocolate chip ice cream that no one else in the family likes. There is something about seeing your baby all grown up in his old stomping grounds… Something soft and fleeting, like monarch’s wings accidentally brushing against your shoulder on their journey to Brazil… I spent every second of the time D was here intimately and intensely aware of his presence. It’s the little things.
Here he is, with my favorite song, and though he screws up towards the end for not having played it in a while - it makes me happy to watch him move across those keys as if nothing else mattered. It's the little things.
A few days later, I found myself sick as a dog, unable to move as much as my little finger and feeling very much as if I had been drugged up, though I obviously was not. With a little help of Google, it turned out that I was suffering from a rather sever bout of anemia, which is not surprising given that mom battled it her whole life. My partner in crime, hubby and best friend went out and rounded up everything that had enough iron and B12 in it to make me whole, no matter how many different stores he had to hit or the expense, and nursed me with the utmost care for two days. The little one was dressed and ready for school every morning, dinners were cooked and dishes and laundry were done without so much as a whimper. It’s the little things… As I laid on a couch watching chick flicks that my boys usually have no interest in, I realized that for all its banality and day-to-day dullness, I have the most romantic life of anyone I know. My boys still think I am cool, and they are way past the age when they don’t know any better, and my husband is still madly in love with me for reasons I no longer want to decipher. Because today, it’s about the little things. Today, I feel lucky to be alive, and I am pretty sure this is the first time I’ve put that in print.