Happiness is....

Growing up our neighborhood was full of kids, most were related to me in one way or another.  Three doors down lived my Aunt, Uncle and four cousins.  Proximity is one of the bedrocks of relationships.  Living close together allows us to casually visit and lean on each other.  Having a street full of those I knew provided a layer of resources for me I would not have had otherwise.  For example, if ever my Mom made something for dinner that I did not like I knew that I could go to my Aunt's house.  They ate earlier then us and I learned I could count on their leftovers.  Leftovers from dinner would always be waiting on the stove.  Part of Southern hospitality is to always offer food to those who enter your home.   "Help yourself Honey" was a familiar phrase and so it was in this home that I learned to enjoy a cold biscuit and sausage sandwich, a delicacy I still enjoy.

It's interesting the memories we pack with us from childhood, like dragging an old suitcase I can unpack sights, sounds and smells from my upbringing that are as real today as they were then.  In my minds eye I can see my Aunt's hallway and picture a plaque that plagues me to this day.  Covered in green tress with beautiful rays of sun bursting through the sky was a simple message that read, "Happiness is not getting what you want, it's wanting what you have."

 I love this concept, so simple, concise and, well, confusing.  The first part I readily accept, "Happiness is not getting what you want".  Many times I have gotten what I wanted with the final result of not being happy. When I was younger I wanted to be married and a stay at home Mom, got it. I worked hard to get a degree, determination and perseverance paid off, now I have a couple of diplomas.  I wanted to run my own business - been there, done that.  Each of these desires of mine have been fulfilled.  They were and are good desires.  I did feel happy when I got what I wanted, yet the happiness wore off, it was not the kind of happiness with staying power. I think there are different types of happiness.

 I've had the "if only"  happiness.  You know, the kind of happiness that comes when you dream of something so far out of your reality you wonder if it could ever be then by lots of chances and choices it comes to be.  Those moments are incredible - the joy of seeing the face of your baby for the first time is a feeling you never forget.  Saying I do to the one you love is pure bliss. Working hard and seeing the fruit of your labor is satisfying. I love these positive feelings- joy, elation, bliss.  They are good but there are more complex feelings that elude me.  Happiness comes and goes, contentment is fleeting.

So on to the second part of the saying that has lingered in my mind for decades- "Happiness is wanting what you have."  What does that mean?  wanting everything?  Can I want my husband but not his snoring?  Can I delight in the warmth of a cat on my lap and still be frustrated with him because he refuses to use the toilet like the other smart felines on youtube?  Part of me feels silly as I ponder my problems, at least the two I just mentioned , are so trivial, so first world, so pale in comparison to the challenges others face and to some I have faced in the past.

As I write I'm gaining perspective, recognizing how good life is at this moment when I have the time and energy to ponder my pet pooping in the latrine.  Life is good. I am happy.  A deep sigh wells up in my soul as I embrace all that is in my life. "Happiness is not having what you want but wanting what you have."  Finally, I get it.

If Trees Could Talk

Thank God it's happening again. Spring has sprung. Green is the dominant color as the days become warmer. Gone are the dull gray sky, vibrant blue soars on the horizon. The Bradford pear trees have had their burst of bold color throwing their confetti of soft white blossoms into the wind reminding us that Mother Nature is having a party and we are all invited. The air is warm, the grass is soft, life is good.

And so it goes, out of the dormancy of winter comes new life. If trees could use words to express themselves I wonder what they would say?  In the middle of the coldest nights of winter do they fear their best days are over?  When they are stripped of the glory of their leaves and lay naked and exposed do they wonder if they will ever feel the sun on their face again? Are they aware that under their brittle branches, somewhere inside their core that which is needed to grow and become glorious is stored away tucked safe inside until the right time? How many seasons must pass before they grow confident in the cycle of thriving then dormancy only to rise again to blossom. Do they embrace the wonder of letting go of their beautiful buds to bring forth fruit that will nourish others.  Or are they like me? Sometimes fearing what is to come, dreading the shifting winds that will bring forth change, wanting desperately to live in forever spring, holding tightly to my blossoms.

I wonder if trees could talk what they would say to us?












   

The chaos of life

Arrived home from a wonderful vacation last night.  Tonight the thermometer tells me I have a fever of 100.6 degrees.  I wonder what this means?  I'm tired, I want to go to bed, trying to stop my mind from racing ahead of me but the very act of not thinking about something is thinking about it.  Quite maddening.  Thinking of  one of my CF friends that spent the last of her life in and out of the hospital..... Literally in for a month then out.  She did not want a transplant.  I know it's a very personal decision but I wish she would have chosen differently and was still alive.

I want new lungs but the work of a transplant overwhelms me, living sick overwhelms me. My life feels like it starts spinning every time the thermometer changes.  I cried because I could not find the &%$#@  TV controller tonight.  In my mind this became the symbol of the chaos of life, a lack of a TV controller; still haven't found it. Time to sleep.

Lucky Me.

I sat on the beach today.  Lucky me. The sun, the sand, the waves.  Just as I visualized it when I would lay in my hospital bed the past few months.....so grateful.

Gratitude

As I sit in my living room I am overcome with gratitude,  I am so grateful for my body responding to weeks of antibiotics, the wonderful staff at UT medical center for kindly facilitating all they do to get me on my feet again.  I owe my life to the dedication of my doctors, nurses, cna's and respiratory therapists;  it takes a big team and I am blessed to have access to modern medical care.

Tonight my breathing is labored and I am tethered to an O2 tank.  I feel this disease taking more then I want to give but tonight I will live out of gratitude that I am in my home; it's warm and dry as the cold rain falls outside.  I am fortunate.  I am blessed.  I am loved.

Merry Christmas!

Tomorrow I get to leave the hospital.  I have spent 28 days on the 9th floor of UT hospital.  My body has been pumped full of antibiotics.  Vancomycin, cipro, zosyn, zyvox and colistin  have been delivered through the line in my groin then moved to  the the line in my chest. I am thankful to be going home for Christmas.