30 Days of Gratitude: Day 4

12 Comments

1. Carol James says:

   October 30, 2010 at 6:22 am

   Today I’m thankful for my mom. She’s 87 and her last few years have been trying, physically and emotionally. In 2008, after living independently since my dad died in 1980, she was in a bad car accident and broke one hip and the contralateral ankle, putting her in the ICU for a couple of weeks, then in rehab, then she went to live with my sister. I flew down when she was in the hospital, then when she got to my sister’s house, I flew down and stayed with them for a week to help my sister take care of our precious mother, including all her intimate needs of ADLs. Rather than go on here, I’ll reference my tribute to her in my blog:
   http://simplicityexperiment.blogspot.com/2008/12/blessings.html

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   Kathy Reply:
   October 30th, 2010 at 8:47 pm

   Carol, you are such a wonderful writer. You definitely have a way with words. Your tribute to your mom brought tears to my eyes. What a wonderful thing to write. Thank you so much for sharing that!

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2. Lea Sims says:

   October 30, 2010 at 6:29 am

   “While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.” – Anonymous

   There are SO many things I have learned from my children, about life, myself, and God. Those lessons start with the wondrous acknowledgment that there is a capacity for love in your heart you didn’t know you possessed, and it compounds (rather than divides) with each child. When I held my oldest child in my arms for the first time, something shifted in me. There is no other way to describe it than to say that I became someone else. In a moment, I finally comprehended the love and devotion of my own parents, and I had a profound revelation of how deep and unalterable God’s love is for us as His children. It changed what I believed, how I thought, how I prayed, and how I behaved. And it’s been a journey of joy, heartache, wonder, humility, and grace every day from that day (April 4, 1995) until today.

   I am grateful today for the blessing of 3 amazing kids, without whom my life would be wholly incomplete:

   For Peyton (15), whose tender heart and easy-going demeanor make him a joy to live with every day. He is witty, intelligent, and incredibly loving. While most moms experience a day when their sons stop wanting them to hug and kiss them, my son skipped that phase. He is affectionate and devoted to his mom, and I adore him.

   For Madison (11-1/2), who is a replication of me in almost every way with her enthusiasm for just about everything, her incredibly social nature, and her incredible motiviation to do well in everything she does. She has filled out lives with dance – she dances in and out of every room. It’s like having a ray of sunshine embodied in one person.

   For Aiden (2-1/2), who is truly the delight of my days – the child born out of tremendous love who has filled our house with joy. We are all utterly devoted to this new little man, and it is amazing to see my husband finally experience the gift of fatherhood first hand.

   So I am thankful that God conceived of the idea “be fruitful and multiply”….LOL It has been a journey I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

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   Kathy Reply:
   October 30th, 2010 at 8:48 pm

   Lea, this is great. As someone who’s watched you along part of that journey, I am so happy for the way it has turned out for you. Blessed indeed.

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3. Melanie says:

   October 30, 2010 at 7:18 am

   Lea ~ As a mom of 5, I found your words so complete and relatable. They fully embraced a role so complex, yet so natural. I could not have expressed the gift of being a mom better. Thank you for sharing.

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4. Linda Kirvel says:

   October 30, 2010 at 9:14 am

   I do not like being cold at all and with winter not so far away here in Ohio, I am grateful for my flannel sheets, my long underwear, my electric blanket, and my pink Snuggie. I am also grateful for the sunny days when I am treated to a wonderful sun spot that warms my bed. I have to fight for my space in the sun spot because Chance and Cheyenne, our cats, and Chip, our Sheltie, think that spot is there just for them. For me, there is something very comforting about being warmed by that sun spot, maybe because there are not a lot of sunny days in the winter, but that one little luxury can start my day off on the right foot.

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   Kathy Reply:
   October 30th, 2010 at 8:49 pm

   Linda, I am sooo with you about the cold! It’s cold here as well. Tomorrow we head to the mountains for hubby’s birthday trip and I just saw it is predicted to snow while we’re up there. Wonder how I can take my electric blanket to that hotel? I loved your story about the sun spot. Those are priceless indeed!

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5. Deb says:

   October 30, 2010 at 9:33 am

   Children! I am thankful for my 3 along with the joy and pain they have each supplied (some more on the pain side of things, but mostly balanced):
   Holly, 29–My last year of nursing school was so stressful, I did not have a period for the entire year; the day after I took my boards, my period started. Then I turned 21. What I thought was a huge hangover the next day turned out to be morning sickness!All this during a terrible marriage (the “we need to get out of our houses so let’s get married” marriage at 19). The pregnancy was difficult; I gained 80 pounds. She was due at Christmas and instead showed up via C-section on Jan 31, because at that time ultrasound for pregnancy was new and they would not use it…and my dates were all messed up. I came home with her and was alone much of the time because I had a 21-year-old husband who was way too young to be married, much less a father. I would go through it many times again for this gorgeous young woman. Talented, smart, THIN , courageous, and like Lea’s daughter, a dancer since she could walk. She took too much time off school but now is almost done with her degree in community health.
   Padraig (23)–This first child of my second marriage was the golden-haired, spoiled rotten grandbaby who was so beautiful as a baby, most thought he was a girl. He had the worst temper tantrums I had ever seen in a child; he still does! Incredibly brilliant and a gifted writer, he will debate you on any subject, any time, and win the debate. He has struggled with who and what he wants to be when he grows up. He’s moved back home for the last year while he figures this out. We secretly don’t want him to ever leave again…
   Aidan (15)–My baby going through the teen angst phase. Born with bright red hair which I let grow into ringlets (and I cried at his first haircut), he has the sunniest disposition of the bunch. He has pierced his ears and dyed his hair black and blue. He has the voice of an angel and plays flute, viola, and guitar; his high school choir director says he is the most vocally talented child he has seen in quite a while. He has tons of friends, all who seem to spend a lot of time at our house watching movies and eating (yay! I get to know where he is!). I have a special bond with this child and have kept a journal on his life for many, many years, to share with him some day.
   They all drive me out of my mind and I am forever grateful for them.

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   Kathy Reply:
   October 30th, 2010 at 8:50 pm

   Deb, thanks for sharing this. I loved your descriptions of your kids. We definitely do learn from them, even when they drive us nuts!

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6. Sherry Evans says:

   October 30, 2010 at 10:46 am

   I’ve never had children, so I can only reference children from my experiences with babysitting…and believe me, you would be bored to tears.

   What I am thankful for today is for the special pets I have had in my lifetime. When I was in 8th grade, my parents built a new house, and we moved in when I was in 9th grade. It was about 9 miles from the small town where we rode the bus to school; we were definitely “country kids,” and we had the requisite dogs and cats, even on occasion chickens, rabbits, a couple cows to raise to provide our own beef, etc.

   I may have mentioned Daisy in an earlier post. Daisy was a pure black-colored cat who always was on the same mental wavelength as I was. She had the usual “knotted, scraggly hair” of a 100% outdoors animal, but I could sit on our back steps and Daisy would come and be with me. We “talked” (or, rather, I talked…but she paid attention, and I swear she understood me). She might get onto my lap and, as cats do, stretch her legs out and out would pop her claws, but all I had to do was say “no” and her claws would retract quickly and I never once had a mark on me from kitty claws. Daisy and I had many long talks and walks, and sometimes I didn’t even talk…just sat with her and petted and was totally peaceful and quiet. Daisy lived quite a long life for a country cat…she lived outside, or possibly in a shed-type building snuggled inside some bales of hay (or in Daisy’s case, in the cold Minnesota winter months, probably snuggled up inside the dog house with Smokey, our family’s dog at that time). Minnesota winters can be hard on 100% outside pets. Our cats OFTEN lost the tips of their ears to frostbite–one day their ears would be their original normal and beautiful selves and the next might be tipless and a little bit black looking from being frozen off. They never acted as though they were in pain…I guess to them it was just a fact of life, part of the price they paid for “living free” maybe.

   Anyway, we had a number of pets as a child, and each was special in its own way.

   When I was with my first husband, we had a black and white cat (mostly black), and I named him “Tar and Feathers” because of his coloration. That cat was friendly, though didn’t quite show the personality that Daisy had, but he had other “qualities.” Tar and Feathers was a hunter, although I truly hated when he would suddenly jump up in the air and bat a small bird with its paw and it would be dead. (One time, I got really upset with him because he had dragged a dead bird into the landing area of our entryway, and there was blood and feathers there. I felt awful about it, but…. At the time I had Tar and Feathers, we were living in the upstairs apartment of an old 2-story house that had been previously owned by my 1st hubby’s grandmother. After her death, the family kept the house but converted the 2nd floor into an apartment and rented out both floors. The 2nd-floor apartment was accessed through a door at the rear of the house into a small closed-in porch type of area that also contained the back door of the 1st-floor apartment. We had to yet open another door at the bottom of a stairs and then another door at the top of the stairs that actually went into our part of the house. Tar and Feathers was NOT a strictly outdoors cat like all of my parents’ cats and dogs had been. Now comes the weird part….our bedroom was a huge square room and in one corner of it, surrounded by a huge curtain, was the bathroom and in one half of that area was an old-fashioned metal stall shower (the kind that just used a shower curtain on hooks…we’re talking early 1970s here, so I mean REALLY OLD-FASHIONED). I didn’t realize it at the time, but whenever we used the shower, there was a leak onto the floor on the side that was towards the bedroom door into the kitchen. When I stepped into this puddle of water the 1st time, I just kind of looked at Tar “strictly.” I cleaned up the water and blamed him for peeing on the floor, but when it happened the next time, I told my husband we had to find a new home for Tar because I was NOT going to be cleaning up kitty whiz all the time! As it turns out, he had an aunt and uncle with a “tribe” of kids who lived on a farm property, and you know there are always mice and they had PLENTY of room for all the cats they could get, so Tar had a new home. Boy, was I red-faced and ashamed of myself when the next time the shower was used (and leaked) I couldn’t blame Tar for it…I felt awful about it until I reconciled myself to believing that he was having a much better life on the farm with other cats and a steady diet that was considered “natural” for cats!

   Anyway, I have learned some life lessons from my pets, 2 of them being (1) not to jump to conclusions about anything and make hasty decisions, and (2) just to be able to find a special place and way to find some inner peace, to just kind of be my “Calgon moment” (for lack of a better descriptor), to let the rest of the world be totally separate from me and for a time to just think–OR NOT, just clear my mind of EVERYTHING and just “be.” I guess it was my own 1st personal experience with meditation, even though I didn’t know it at the time. Due to the fact that cats are such INDEPENDENT animals, I’m continually surprised that Daisy and I had such a connection. All she had to do was see me (or perhaps she could catch my scent in the air) and she would head for me to see where I would sit and we could have “our time” together.

   In the years since I left home, which was 1973, I’ve thought about Daisy often and will always be grateful for the time we had together. There will never be another cat like Daisy.

   In 2008, my (current) hubby and I bought a young parakeet and brought it home. We were in our current house, the one we bought on Halloween Day in 2007, and this was the 3rd of 3 birds we had at the time. (The other 2 were very old; the male was friendly but not truly more than just “a pet,” and the female was never friendly, more anti-social, but at least not peckish and mean.) Anyway, my hubby worked with “Sammy” and after only a very short time, Sammy was not only eating out of his hand but also talking…and I mean to tell you, this bird was truly intelligent! He didn’t just REPEAT words, he talked in sentences…and they made sense! He had a vocabulary that was probably about the size of a 4- or 5-year-old child. Then in late October of 2009, I posted on a local “Freecycle” website that I had cookbooks to give away. One of the ladies who responded came to the front door, and I opened it to let her in. Not remembering that the bird cages in the TV had been opened and that all 3 of the parakeets were out of the cages, I was really surprised with 2 of the 3 birds flew over my head and out of the house. The 1 remaining bird was quickly put back into the cage, and then I ran out of the house stocking footed onto wet lawn and wet street and saw that the female had flown into the street and was actually sitting on the center line of Main Street just out from the end of our house. I was really afraid she would be hit and killed by a car because this is a BUSY Main Street in our small town…LOTS of traffic, even Amish horses and buggies! As I got up close to her, she flew across the street and onto a neighbor’s concrete porch area. I got her in my hands and quickly got her back into the house and into her cage. It was starting to get dark out and the lady who had come to my house for the cookbooks (who only lived 2 houses down on the same side of the street) felt so bad that “it was her fault” (when, of course, it was mine for being so careless) that the birds got out of the house that she went home and grabbed a jacket and came back to help us look for Sammy. It got down into the 40s that night. Despite hours of walking around outdoors, calling to him (and he usually responded to this when we were inside the house and came to us), talking to neighbors and asking if they had seen a small bird (parakeet) flying in the area, we got totally depressed as it was getting colder and darker and there had been no sign of Sammy. By the time my hubby and I gave up for the night (and the neighbor lady actually kept looking for a while longer), we had pretty much believed that “our son” was lost to us. If the weather didn’t kill him, some neighborhood cat would surely find Sammy and then he WOULD be gone forever. The next day, I made a sign and hung copies in the local grocery store and one of the area churches with the story and our names, address and phone number. My husband was HEARTBROKEN because this was truly NOT a pet but was actually HIS SON. I cried, too, but I cried because it was my fault that the birds got out of the house in the first place. This was going to be the worst Thanksgiving of our lives. The 2nd full day after Sammy had gotten out of the house, there was a knock on the door, and after I was SURE the birds were in the cages and the doors were closed, I opened it to find a nice older lady outside and she smiled at me and asked, “Did you lose this little bird?” She was holding Sammy in her hands, and I quickly took him from her and invited her inside. Her story was that the lady who was at the house when the birds flew out was married to a guy who happened to be inside the local grocery when this lady got out of her car to go inside the store. Sammy had been up on the edge of the roof of the store, and when he saw HER, he must have thought it was me because we had (believe it or not) similar height and similar hair style and color….and he flew down and landed on her head! She looked in the store window and saw this little bird on her head and couldn’t believe it when she was able to just raise her hand up there and he jumped onto her hand and she sheltered him and went in the store. She asked in the store if anyone knew anything about this bird, and the husband of the other lady said that he thought he knew who it belonged to and pointed out our poster….so then the lady showed up with Sammy. She had driven from the store with Sammy SITTING ON HER SHOULDER inside her car, and then she tenderly held him as she waited for us to answer our door. I cried then (much like right now, just thinking about this MIRACLE) and couldn’t stop hugging her and thanking her. We talked a while and then she left. Chris and I couldn’t believe this miracle, but it was actually short lived. Within just about 2 days more, we realized that Sammy was getting visibly ill and wasn’t eating and finally had quit drinking, so we found a vet in New York (very close to our home in Pennsylvania) and got him there as quickly as we could. The vet examined Sammy and told us that he couldn’t believe our bird had gotten THAT sick (“far gone”) from 2 days’ exposure. (He thought that we were maybe neglecting him and that we just weren’t taking care of him or something….AS IF!) He said he would normally give him an antibiotic injection, but he didn’t think Sammy would survive it because he had been so stressed and was so thin, so he prescribed an antibiotic and told us how to give it, and we took the medicine, paid the bill, and left. He had also told us it would be a good idea to have a heat lamp or something similar to help Sammy’s body temperature rise and that just having him against OUR SKIN (like 2 humans might do to help recover when 1 has hypothermia) just wouldn’t be enough. So, before we went home, we went to Wal-Mart and I bought a small space heater to have near the cage. For all of that night, Chris and I took turns holding Sammy in a little “nest” of soft cloth that I had made and the bottom of it was exposed to the heat from the space heater. During a time when Chris was taking a nap (he was exhausted) on the couch in the TV room and I was holding Sammy, at 12:20 a.m. he had the 1st of 2 strokes. At 2:38 a.m, he had a 2nd stroke. At 2:45 a.m., he had what we could only describe as “a heart attack,” and he died in my hands. The only thing we could be sure of was that our “son” was going to be the hardest loss of our lives, and I wasn’t even sure our marriage was strong enough to survive it. I kept blaming myself, and Chris kept telling me that it wasn’t my fault–it was his fault that the birds were even out of the cage, and he didn’t blame me for opening the door. Well, I had been to an antique store when we had visited his parents one time, and I had and bought a beautiful small wooden box with an oriental design carved into it, and it was lined with red velvet. At 3:00 a.m., we basically lined the box with the cloth that we had been supporting Sammy in, placed him inside, covered him with the cloth, closed the box, and swung the little latch closed and then buried him in a peaceful little spot by the back of our house just outside the garage door next to a holly bush. We held a very difficult little service for him at noon and said good-bye to our son with a sadness you would not believe people could have for what most people would just consider a pet. As I am sure you can tell by my words, there was never any thought by us that this was in any way “some animal” or “just a pet.” This was SUCH a special addition to our family, and we couldn’t have loved Sammy more if he were an actual human little boy that we had created together and I had given birth to. The sadness, even though this happened nearly a year ago, still stays with us. On occasion, I will hear my husband cry as I try to fall asleep, and the sadness overtakes me again because there isn’t anything I can do to ease his sadness…and I end up crying silently, trying not to shake the bed as I cry. I can only fall asleep when I am able to tell Chris is asleep by his breathing.

   Pets can bring such joy and also such sadness into our lives. I honestly believe that every pet I have truly felt intimately close to has helped me to really learn how to love…and with each loss of these special “little people,” I experience real tragedy. While I can’t feel gratitude at the time because of their passing, I can feel gratitude for the time I was allowed to have them in my life.

   While I realize this post is turning into a novelette, I’d like to share a poem with everyone here. Those of you who have ever lost a special pet will understand….

   RAINBOW BRIDGE

   Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

   When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

   All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

   They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are content; his eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

   You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face, your hands once again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

   Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….

   Author Unknown

   As I close this post, I am crying, and it is hard to even see what I’m typing through the tears, but this is all about love and the gratitude I feel that I have been given the ability to give and receive love. With this ability comes great sadness for love that is lost, but I will always be grateful to God for the time that he gives me with each of the special loves of my life.

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   Kathy Reply:
   October 30th, 2010 at 8:51 pm

   Sherry, what awesome stories. I love the Rainbow Bridge, found that when my Bailey died several years ago. We learn a lot from our animals. As you know, I have Turbo the wonder dog living here and he is a daily joy to my life.

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7. Linda Kirvel says:

   October 30, 2010 at 12:11 pm

   Sherry, Thank you so much for the poem “Rainbow Bridge.” I have always felt like I would be reunited with my animals after I pass away and I have always imagined it just like the poem says. Whenever I have lost one of my beloved animals, I always tell them that I will see them again in heaven and I truly believe that I will. My sister and I often talk about meeting up with our friends on the other side and I will certainly share this poem with her.

   I was in tears by the time I finished your post because I have had similar situations and know how hard the loss hit me at the time. I feel your posts are always very powerful and you are a wonderful writer. The way that you describe everything makes it all very real and that is an incredible gift.

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