Be Present and Enjoy

I visited my mom on one of her not-so-good days. She was agitated and worried and not fully awake. The hardest part is leaving her. Sadness and anxiety well up. My chest and stomach get tight and achy.

The first half of my life, I stuffed painful emotions. One of the problems with that habit is it made me stuff good emotions too. I’m still learning that it’s okay to feel them all. Determined to live fully, I try not to hold them back.

On the drive away from the nursing home, I soaked up my favorite season. It was the end of September and pumpkin patches spread out beside big red barns. Damp leaves of orange, yellow, and brown dotted the grass and the cornfields.

Driving wide-open spaces helps me process my thoughts. On that winding country road, I let myself feel what I needed to feel. My heart hurt for my mom. I cried and talked out loud. About my fears, anger, and sadness. My meltdown not only helped me get it out but to make a conscious decision. I wasn’t going to miss a moment of Grandparent’s Day at six-year-old Ashley’s school.

Then anxiety snuck back up and pushed my brain too far ahead. I started to worry about the three-hour drive home I’d have later that evening. What time should I leave? I have so much to do and I’m already exhausted. Maybe I shouldn’t have committed to this.

As I did a quick change of clothes at my son’s house, I did a quick change of mind as well. I didn’t ignore the anxious thoughts but breathed in and opened a space for God to remind me that I didn’t need to figure it all out. Just do the next right thing. Go to Ashley’s school. Then be present and enjoy.

And enjoy, I did. Ashley ran to me, grinning big, showing her dimples and all those gaps where baby teeth used to be. Her strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes behind her little glasses stole my breath for a second and opened wide that space again to breathe and be in the moment. The now. The new. The joy. Grand-baby hugs are the best, aren’t they?

Happy tears wet my cheeks as I watched Ashley sing with her classmates. She stood tall, eyes on her teacher. A couple times she glanced over to make sure I was watching and we giggled. I savored the moments teaching her to fly a kite. She held on tight, a tad nervous as it soared and dived, whipped by the wind. Then, she held my hand as we went inside. There, we focused in the moment of decorating cookies with sweet, sticky, Barbie-pink frosting.

As I write, I’m reminded that God is doing new things. For Ashley Marie. For me. And for you, my dear friend. There’s always something to learn in the highs and lows of life. May we choose to be present in the moment, feel what we’re feeling, and create space for joy and peace.

Let’s give ourselves permission to love and live and grieve well.

 

 

 

 

Photos: Top: Ashley Marie, with rosy cheeks. She rocked that kite-flying in spite of 95 degrees & high humidity. And then there’s Snoopy. Because he makes us smile.