August 5, 2022 ~ Friday morning (already too hot at 93° at 10:30 am … )
It’s my first extended summer in CO in ten years … and, to put it mildly, there’s been a LOT to contend with. The first six weeks had me fatigued and feeling a need for more O2 … and the dual ear/sinus infection didn’t help matters, either. The upside was I realized I had no free-floating organs or I certainly would have coughed one up. The heat/sun were furnace-like especially compared to the NW temps I had just left … where a warm summer day hovered around 68°. And I had to find places for things that used to fit into 3000 square feet of house … and fit them into 830 square feet instead. I won’t even mention the difference in traffic from the island to here … and the noise … or the constant bombarding over-stimulation.
I’m feeling MUCH better … have gotten rid of most of the ailments, except the cough (and yes, I tested for Covid = neg all 4x), have gotten used to the thinner air and altitude – I am no longer gasping at night while sleeping, am getting used to using a vat of lip gloss and lotion on a daily basis, have liters of cold water waiting for my needed hydration, have set up the house having unpacked 4 million boxes, and while it still feels like I’m on an extended vacation – I’m settling in.
This morning I let the dogs out and left the back door open so they could come and go and I could flop back down in the bed at 7:03 … too early for me. However, I fell fast asleep again, weird dreams and all, and woke up feeling HOT. I should have corralled the dogs and closed the outer door (early on) as the house was already a whopping 82° – with three fans and the a/c going full blast. This house, built in 1911, holds the heat … or it leaks like a sieve and lets the heat in. I guess I’ll find out this winter … if I’m cozy or freezing!
Anyway, as I was lusciously, lazily laying in bed … I was thinking about “things” as one does when their thoughts aren’t focused on anything and then the brain does a free-fall and goes to places one has been too busy to dwell upon … akin to an in-box with a “tend to later” file.
So, there I was thinking over the last 10 weeks (yes, I’ve been here since late mid-May!) … and I was thinking of how often someone will do something for another and say, “Oh, it was nothing.” … when, actually, that deed, gesture, utterance, connection or assistance of some kind was, indeed, EVERYTHING.
And it’s usually not the BIG things we think of when this comes to mind. It’s the small things that truly are second nature to someone … an open door, a helping hand, a sweet compliment or smile … that hit the core of our being and makes our souls lighter … our hearts soar … our spirits lifted.
I remember back sixteen years ago when my husband, Tim, had just passed. It was the day after. It was the first day in over 27 years that he was not in my life. I felt hollow, shattered, numb. I was pretty sure my heart was going to fall out of my body and break into a million pieces as it felt like it was going to do every day for the 148 days before his passing. It was late morning and I was sitting on the front porch reminding myself to breathe and I noticed a woman walking past the house, along the sidewalk, with a box in her hand. She turned up our driveway and I got up to meet her. She said she was from a neighborhood women’s group – had heard about Tim’s passing – and she handed me the box and said they had put together lunch for us. I don’t remember if we hugged. I have no idea (to this day) who this woman was or who was in that group or how they knew (???). I don’t remember what was in the box. I just remember being so deeply touched by this lovely, out-of-the-blue, simple gesture of neighborliness and empathy. I think of that offering often.
And, not to say that everything else we received during that time wasn’t so profoundly appreciated – because it was … but this was a complete stranger. She couldn’t have blown me away any more than if she sprouted wings and flew up into the clouds. An angel amongst us.
But, I’ve had many angels in my life. I hope, in reflection, that when reading this you realize that you, too, have had those moments of “nothing being everything”.
This past month I lunched with a good friend. We met a million years ago (roughly 33) when my son entered her kindergarten classroom. She is the one who told me I didn’t ‘know what I had’ (meaning: brilliant Ted). Sam was fortunate enough to have her, as well. I’m certain there was no better way to start out their educational journeys than with Miss Linda! We became and stayed friends, through thick and thin (life and bodies), and there I was sitting in the coolness (it was another blazing hot day) of her dining room. The table was set with placemats and cloth napkins and sweet bunny napkin rings of pewter. We had chicken salad and I just remember thinking that it had been a LONG time since anyone made me anything to eat … and that this was just so lovely. I think it also came at a time when I was just DONE with all that I was doing and was tired/hot/finally feeling human again but exhausted and spent. And this sweet outpouring of caring, nurturing, friendship and love filled me up (along with the chicken salad). And maybe that all played into the specialness of that lunch but maybe not … it may have been just a casual “nothing” lunch to her and her husband … but it was everything to me.
And so it goes … it’s the small things. The whipped cream pup cup at Starbucks because the girl saw the dog in the back seat on a horribly hot day when we were coming home from the vet’s office … sitting side by side with my daughter in the movie theater, jumping out of our collective skins when dinosaurs popped out of from their hiding spots in the newest Jurassic Park movie … a random call from my son, late at night, to talk about his recent podcast.
All day-to-day normal things … seemingly nothing … but, at the same time … everything.