Well friends, today marks the final day of my 40-day run devoted to an attitude of gratitude. I have to admit, I ventured off into the dirty world of complaining on more than one occasion, because, hey , life happens....but I try to make a conscious effort to get back to this grateful place as much as possible, so here I am. I thought about making another final list filled of things I love as the "grand gratitude finale". However, as I sat down to write it out in my usual fashion, my mind ventured to what tomorrow marks for me. Tomorrow marks the anniversary of when I got the call that initiated my growing up process....and this brought my mind to what I am most grateful for...and that is you people. Not to downplay the value that red cherry slurpees have had in my life, as they have brought me to a happy place on more than one occasion, but, the amount of gratitude I feel for the people in my life is far too significant to sandwich between slurpees and sangrias. Therefore, I dedicate this blog to the thing I am most grateful for: to you, my friends. Even if we don't know each other that well, you found me somehow, so don't deny that we have some sort of connection. And if you don't roll your eyes at my writing, because this is pretty much me laid out there, I'd like to get to know you better, so go ahead and consider yourself a friend.
I'd venture to say that very few people can identify the exact place and time that they grew up, or maybe it hasn't happened for them yet. I am far from being a "grown up", but I can tell you that the jolt that initiated the process for me happened on April 3, 2009 at about 3pm, and Dan Fogelberg "Longer" was playing in the background.
As many of you know, April 1 was the day that my mom had a golf-ball sized aneurysm rupture (side note: aneurysm...why is it that something that has had such an impact on my life is still so damn hard to spell?) I'm not proud of it, but , after it happened,it took me an entire two days to get over myself and venture in to see her face to face. Up to that point, I could only make it to the outside of her hospital room. I was terrified of seeing the little whirling dervish of random fun energy I knew and loved in a vulnerable state. I was worried about myself and my memories of her. But, like I said, I eventually got over myself and ventured in to see her for the first time on April 3.
Around 3:00 in the afternoon, the music therapist and massage therapist came in to see us. The music therapist asked my dad what their wedding song was, and he told her Fogelberg "Longer". The music therapist began to play it and whoop there it was, my growing pains were initiated. That was the best and worst 3 minutes of my life. During the song, my dad ventured over to stand by me at my mom's bedside. We just kind of stared at my mom for a minute, in disbelief that we were there, in this place, when suddenly my dad pulled me close by my shoulders, and for the first time in my 23 years, I saw my dad choke back tears. The way he hugged me was different than any other hug I'd ever experienced. Up to that point, all I knew was the semi-awkward, butt out kind that seemed to say "heeey we're dropping you off at college now and we're supposed to hug now but we know we'll see you again in five days because that roommate of yours looked realllly weird." Nope, this was different. It said "we're a team now." In that moment, I realized that there was more to the world than me....I was kicked out of my self-absorbed bubble and realized that there is more to people and situations than how they treat me and how they affect me.
So, as cheesy as it is, from that moment I started to learn to love people. Sure, there are some real dicks that are introduced to me in my life. Like the crazy patient's grandmother who made it her business to be a total unbeliveable a-hole on a daily basis this week, or the bitchy PICU resident who talked to me like therapy was the taint of the hospital . But when it comes to it, I have to admit that those dickweeds have been fertilized by crappy experiences of their own; they just cope differently. Shit can make the best fertilizer or make you just reak...depends on what kind of plant you want to be. I don't necessarily love my interactions with these people; but I'm slowly learning to see them as experiences who make me appreciate the people that really matter in my life. Which means you.
I've learned the value of true interactions and friendships. I love when people are just themselves and aren't afraid to pull you in close in a sign of mutual "needage." Ohhh friends, who know a shoulder squeeze could teach me so much. I'm here for you, but I know you're here for me too if I need you. That's what hugs are about....two people in a mutual "what up"ness, venturing on this life thing together. Its ok, you don't have to hug me, I 'll still know you love me, and I love you too!
Thank you for being a friend (or considering becoming one),
Sara
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