A few years ago I was walking across the park just in front of our house. It was spring, so all the snow had melted and the grass was starting to return to the greener end of the dead spectrum. It wasn't particularly warm, and I don't think the sun was even out, but I was skipping. Skipping across the grass feeling so SO happy.
I was on my way home from a medical checkup after the whole ectopic malarky and I was counting my blessings... again. I felt so lucky to be alive, and realised how blessed I was just to be able to walk/skip across the park like a lunatic.
Fast forward to today.
Today I was grumpy. For no good reason really - I was just in a grumpy mood. Too much to do. No time for 'play'. Snow all over the place. Anyway, this afternoon, I had to walk my cranky pants self across the park... and I remembered the feeling I had walking across that other time...
So I might not have all the children that I'd like, and my family might live on the other side of the planet, I feel like I've turned into an old woman overnight and I constantly end the day feeling like I haven't had time to breathe until that minute because things are just too busy... but ...
I have a wonderful little family - Dan and Kalani and even our two crazy cats. I have a child. Millions of women don't get the chance to have one child. Or they have so many that they can't afford to clothe and feed them (I met a lady the other day who was about to have her sixth child.... yup - you read right, SIXTH!!).
So my family lives a 31 hour plane journey away. But at least I get to go and see them when I can, and they're all healthy and happy and not living in the middle of a civil war or a famine or ... America!
Yes, I've just turned that awful four. zero. age (which btw is not just a frickin number... it's VERY. VERY. OLD). At least I get to grow old. I might not be doing it very gracefully, but I am able to do it.
And yes, my life is busy. Whose isn't? Work can be crazy and all encompassing, and there's the constant guilt that I'm not doing either of my jobs well (mother/wife and the one that I actually get paid for), but ... at least I have a job. A job that I enjoy, and am qualified for (i.e. I'm not a surgeon driving a taxi because my new country of residence won't recognise my medical degree).
So my point is this. I'm sure that everyone of you goes through grumpy stages like I do, and I'm sure that you don't always have good days. You'd have to be on drugs for everything to be sunshine and roses all the time. But... is your life really that bad? Have you looked around you, or even looked inside you... and seen all that you do have? I bet you've got it pretty good!
And if you can't see just how very lucky you are, then just be thankful that you don't live in north-eastern Nigeria, wondering if your town will be wiped out next.
See - things aren't so bad after all are they!
Life. Is. Good.
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