Thankful for snow

Hi GirliePie,

We had beautiful snow today. The sparkly cuz it’s cold, crunchy cuz it’s REALLY cold, 6″ of fluffy kind of snow. The kind that piles on the evergreen bushes and stays there all day. The kind that the dogs burrow their nose into and come up coated and delirious. The kind that looks like snow cones on the banister. It was heavenly. And of course, I got out in it, because I just do. Weather has never stopped me from anything except getting to New York last spring to see your brothers first Broadway credit. But I went later, so it worked out! And the blizzard then didn’t stop me from getting to the airport, it just stopped the airlines from taking off!! Haha!

As this new year has gotten off the ground, I’m hoping for, looking for, planning on being thankful. This week I’ve seen your Auntie’s new house. Yea, the one that is years of projects in the making, and she and my brother are in their happy place; planning, and working and envisioning. We had our annual New Years Eve party in their Irish Pub basement. The last one. Never go down there without thinking of your 100 Days party. Your defiance in the face of difficulty, your determination to celebrate that which deserves to be celebrated.

I’ve also started a new gig with your Dad. I’m his personal assistant! Haha! Partly because we don’t really know what that’s going to look like, long term, partly because I know him so well, partly because I’m not afraid to hold him accountable for what he’s asked for. It’s been fun, digging in, becoming reacquainted with a business that I’ve been pretty disconnected from for coming up on 6 years, since you got sick. I’m feeling useful and I think I can make a difference in how he spends his time, helping him to work smarter, without having to work harder. We’ll see…

Your brother is working in California. Working sick, as he always gets sick when he comes home. Presumably the letting down of his guard that happens being home. But he’s a big boy and is taking care of himself, all while pouting when I don’t answer because he “needs his nurse Mama!” That boy!

Mia was so cute today. She is usually the passive one of the dogs, not the alpha at all, though she is the oldest and certainly the most vocal when trying to get her peeps to do what she wants, like get her another treat. Anyway, I was doing some stretching on the floor and Sophie was using my foot to rub on, hoping I’d, in turn, rub her with my foot. In came Mia, and she actually head butted Sophie out of the way! That’s MY Beanka’s foot! Haha! And to think Mia learned that from Buttons, and then is the one who taught Sophie about foot rubbing! Love those hairy kids of yours!

Speaking of stretching, I never do mountain pose to forward fold, repeat, and repeat again, without thinking of you squawking that it made you dizzy to watch me do that. I made you dizzy this morning and again tonight.

Honey, it was a beautiful snow day with happy things, including thoughts of you!

I am thankful for today!!


Starting the conversation…


We used to talk every day, sometimes we talked multiple times a day. Now, we can’t talk. Well, you can’t talk. Angels don’t talk. You communicate, at least I feel like you do, but you can’t talk. And I’m not much on monologues. But I’ve discovered something. It’s taken me 4 years of not hearing your voice to figure it out. I can still talk to you.
People ask me, often, though not as often as during the few months after you died, if I talked to you. Mostly people assume that I did, that I do. But truthfully, I think, feel, say “Hi Jenny!!” often, but that’s mostly it. When I think of you, which is frequently and fervently, I think if you in stills, in series shots in my minds eye. Mostly from those months you were sick, the weeks just before you died, the day you died. But I’ve discovered how limiting that has become. It limits me, and it limits my experience of you.
During your battle with leukemia, I wrote, through Caringbridge, a chronical of your experience. After the first couple of days, I ended nearly every post with “We are thankful for today!!” I did that on purpose. For you, for me, for all who followed your journey. It was my way of finding the hope in the day. It was my way of reminding all of us that the details of the here and now are not the whole story. That miracles happen every day. Sometimes, it’s the people placed in our path, sometimes the thought of the moment, the wash of the heart, the gift for the eye, the ear. Fleeting, but uplifting. The smell of rain, competent hands, puppy snuggles, grilled cheese and no bake cookies, a parking space right up front, the first snow, a goose farm.
As time has marched, day by day, farther away from you, though your Dad thinks of it as each day closer to you (someday, I hope to think if it that way, too!) I find it harder to be thankful for today. That is contrary to my nature! I’ve always been able to see the small miracles and be thankful. But…
So, I am taking that bull by the horns. I don’t want to forget how to be thankful. I want the beautiful idea that you have pink angel wings to be a starting point for noticing beauty and laughter and the good things in a day to day life. And I want to learn to talk to you again. To share life with you, even if it feels a bit like a monologue. So, I begin…
I am thankful for today!!