Thankful #3

Thankful #3: Life, just as it is

I realized that I needed to get the 'obvious' thankfuls out of the way so I could really clear my head to focus on the smaller things. Considering this, I didn't want to write, "I'm thankful for my family, for my friends..." it's so generic!

It was then I realized, for the most part, life currently is wonderful. Sure, there are some things I'd change, but this month isn't for complaining.

Life, just as it is, is comforting. Everything glides along effortlessly, the days blurring together out of happiness and ease. There are things about my day, today, things that make my life whole and complete, that could change in an instant. So many things that will change, one day. I need to be thankful today for my life the way it is.

*Both my parents are still kickin' and only a phone call or 15 minute drive away. Our relationship has evolved from total parent dependency to something more akin to friendship. I don't need them like I used to need them, with that feeling of total helplessness. It's a healthier need, more like a want. I want them in my life, and as a parent, there is probably nothing sweeter than your grown child wanting you to be apart of their everyday life, to want to share their life with you, not out of obligation or dependency but because it just makes life better to share, to be open. I don't think some parents would be able to separate their 'child' from the adult they have raised. Mine have. I can't tell you how many times I have marveled at the difference between my parents when I was young and my parents now. They poke fun when I drink too much and consult over tattoo choices. My friends are their 'adopted children' (although that has always been the case). They used to be strict but now they know they don't have to be. Or maybe they see I'm responsible enough to make my own life choices and that the role of 'parent' can now transition into the easier role of 'friend'.

But one day, when they are gone, a part of me will be gone. I will never know happier days than the ones I know now, the days with my parents taking a role in my life. When they are gone, I feel a dark shadow will be cast over every happy moment because I won't be able to share that moment with them.

I know this has taken a morbid turn, but I think if you realize what will be when things change you can truly appreciate what you have now. Plus, we're all morbid. It's in our genes.

*R & A live .7 miles away. This, I believe, will change sooner rather than later because I know A. wants to leave Georgia. Regardless, I love them living so close. One day we will look back at our small starter homes with a wistful sigh. We'll talk about our walks about the city, how we always felt safer knowing the others were so close. A. may not think so now, but one day I know she'll look back at this time and be glad she lived it. We live a simple life, learning how to be grown while still clutching the last bit of what we thought it meant to be 'young'. We're still young, have many more years of youth, but the word has transformed to mean something with much more responsibility than we originally thought.

One day, R & A will leave Georgia, I have no doubt about that. I told her the other day that I was well aware of the change coming, I just wasn't going to think about it until the time came. I'm thinking about it now, sitting at work, knowing, that if she's in--she's only an IM away. If she's still in bed, I could walk to her house in about 5 minutes.

In a few years, this reality will only be our common past. Phone calls will replace nightly visits and we'll have to work on making plans, as visits will have to be scheduled. It will be a very different kind of friendship but one still worth all the extra effort. So I'm thankful for having them so close, physically and emotionally. R&A, they are our constants, and nothing, not even distance, will change that.

*This morning, I woke up to the sound of babble coming from the door way. I peeked in and Oliver was laying in his crib (usually he's bouncing by now). He smiled at me with a sleepy grin and then pulled himself to standing, reaching out to me with chubby little arms. He laid his warm head on my shoulder and then was very still as I changed his diaper (he must have been very sleepy). I recited "GaGaGa" and he repeated it back, in that very definite and very determined little voice. I set him in his pack and play and heard his laughing hello to the dog, who slept near him on the couch. His whine called me to him and his satisfied smile as I gave him his bottle in the car still lingers in my mind. My heart bursts for him and I'm thankful that in my life, just as it is, he's in it.

These baby days are short. His "GaGaGa"s will slowly fade from my memory and I'll only be able to recall the exact sound of his voice through the "GaGa"s of other babies. His teeter-totter walk will smooth out. He'll be running soon, he's already all but stopped crawling. He'll need me less, his chubby cheeks will thin. In a few years, he'll lose that baby look, that baby innocence and one day I'll blink and he'll be a teenager.

I push all those thoughts out of my head. That will come, in it's time, and I'll cherish every moment like the every day moments I struggle to cherish today. So as I type, I can hear his voice, his very determined "Ga"s and picture the way he says them sharply. I can feel how smooth his skin his, see his crumpled face when he cries as well as picture the way he looked when he entered this world. I'm thankful for my life, just as it is today, because tomorrow he will be just a little bit bigger.

*Anthony is in good health which I worry about daily with his smoking habit. Your health can change in an instant, but this blog isn't about worries. It's about acknowledgement of how good your life really is. Anthony is in good health and he is the kind of husband that makes you believe in love. I've been reading my old journals, astonished at how naive I was, how I let others treat me so poorly. I was shocked. That girl is a stranger to me. I know that my life could have turned out so differently if I had ended up alone or with someone else. Everything my life is now is because of Anthony. My job, my friends, Oliver. He was the spark that started the chain reaction, the rest of my life just waiting on him. So I can't begin to be thankful for life, just as it is, because it would be nothing without him.

So, to finish up the longest post I've ever written, I've compiled a list of things I'm thankful for about life today (in no particular order)

*Every morning that Anthony and I work, I take Oliver to his Grandma's house. It is quite a relief to know that he is taken care of, loved, doted on. I don't have the guilt of having to take him to daycare. I know that it's good for him to spend so much time with his grandparents. Sabrina probably pays individual attention to him that I do (I think that is the circle of life, grandparents picking up the slack when the parents are so busy with everything else). Sabrina is always available at short notice, sometimes no notice, and she is always willing to take him. We're so very fortunate that she is able and willing to care for him. It is one of those things I'm thankful for every single day...

*My house. It may have electrical issues, a rotting back porch, a sink that smells funny and palmetto bugs that move in every fall, I love our house. I saw my life in it and although it may be a mess, it is where we need to be.

*My job. I work with all my friends and have blogged for the past 45 minutes without disruption. I don't mind going to work. Its not something I dread, it's a happy part of my life. I know I'll move on one day but it's comfortable and I LOVE all the people I work with.

On that note, that both Anthony and I are gainfully employed, with health insurance. We make enough money to pay the bills as well as have a little left over.

OK, now that some of the basic thankfuls are out of the way, I can clear my head for others to come. Thanks for sticking with this long ass post.