…and then some

I’m about to sit and write another thoughtful post, but before I do I want to take a minute to sincerely THANK you guys for the comments you left me yesterday!  I’m having one heck of a time with this flu, and just reading your short little messages did me a world of good.  Thanks for taking the time to write them.  It boosted my spirits this morning.  Trenton has been sleeping abnormal lengths of time, and I’m severely worried about him.  Danny took him in yesterday and (aside from two very minor ear infections) the doctor wasn’t worried at all.  But I am.  Because he’s STILL sleeping.  Last night, he slept for 19 hours.  Can you even begin to wrap your mind around that?!  And I wasn’t thinking ‘Hey, nice!  I’m feverish and coughing my brains out of my nose and my youngest is nice enough to sleep through it all!’

I was actually thinking ‘What is wrong with my baby?’ And I didn’t rest at all.  I’m still worried, and I believe it is given unto mothers to be so whenever they choose.  Lacy’s recovered just fine, so far.  She crawled up on me yesterday, put her hand on my face, softly stroked it, and said, “Mama, you are warm on you head and you neck and cheeks. I will just take such good care of you and I can SHARE the medicine Daddy bought for me.” I melted right there on the spot, which didn’t help the fever a’tall.

As I said before, I’m going to write another thoughtful post.  Reason being: I learned a lot while I was gone on my little weekend “retreat” and I don’t want it to be forgotten.  I want to store it up -remember it -so I don’t have to spend that amount of money again just to gain a little insight into my life.  I had to spend a weekend in virtual silence to really figure everything out.  From now on, I’m hoping to spend a fraction of each day in silence and a good chunk of Saturday in silence each week.  The plan is: hoard the silence so I don’t have to spend money to get it.  I like to think of it as my year’s supply.

While I was sitting on the ultra-tall bed in my room, I was struck with a sudden memory which I would now like to pass on to you, should you choose to accept it.

When I was 17, a tremendously generous friend of mine paid for a plane ticket for me.  The destination?  Hawaii.  My friend’s mother was already there, was renting a condo and relaxing on account of her health, and we (my friend and I) were set to meet her there and spend the week visiting her.

Getting to Hawaii was an adventure all it’s own -a story for another day, but once we arrived the beauty of island of Maui made it all worth it.  From the balcony of the condo, we could see the beach, right across the street.  The air was warm and beautiful -the colors of the island seemed unreal -especially to an Arizona girl who was used to seeing only brown and brown and petrified wood.

One day, my friend’s mother suggested we take a drive.  The drive, she pointed out, was the thing.  Not the destination.  The drive was famous for being incredible gorgeous, but apparently where the drive ended up was in a little town that didn’t take kindly to tourists and thus did everything in their power to discourage them.  My friend and I hopped in the car with my friend’s mother, and we began the drive.

We all wore our bathing suits, and it felt very natural to.  In fact, since I’d landed in Hawaii, I’d hardly taken my bathing suit off.  Wearing my bathing suit ensured that I could readily take advantage of every opportunity to enjoy the water.

The drive turned out to have MORE than it’s fair share of water.  We would pull off the the side of the road and eagerly jump into the crystal clear water that formed into giant pools under spontaneous waterfalls.  We bought fresh pineapple from roadside farmers, and took pictures of the wonderful nature scenes that surrounded us on all sides of the road.

Oh, the road.  I will never forget that road.  It was narrow -so narrow in parts that only one car could fit at a time.  There were sharp curves and a definite lack of guard rails.  While coming around a curve, a person would have to honk to let anyone who might be coming the other way to stop.  We took the drive very slowly -very, very slowly, and very very cautiously.

When we arrived at our destination, we were greeted by a very unfriendly village and ONE single, solitary, run-down, stocked with overpriced food… concession stand.

I think about that now and realize that I spend too much time focusing on a “destination.”  In fact, I’m so busy thinking about the “when I get there,” I’m forgetting about what’s happening all around me right now!  There’s certainly no lack of spontaneous waterfalls and brilliant scenes worthy of photographing, and I’m afraid I’ve missed out on the opportunity to more fully enjoy them because, quite frankly, I haven’t had my metaphorical bathing suit on.  The road is tough, to be sure.  It’s narrow and scary and there’s sharp turns that I’d just rather not take, but the breathtaking beauty all around me is what makes it worth it.

The truth is: I’m scared over my future.  I’m scared to take that road.  But what good am I doing thinking so much about it?  The fact that I will take it is certain!  Now is the time to pull off the road for a bit, jump into the water, laugh, and enjoy what priceless beauty there is.

I’m not talking about ACTUAL beautiful scenery because if you could see my house right now, you’d never ever come over again. (We’ve been sick since New Year’s, mmm k?) I’m talking about my kids and my husband and the brown, brown desert that actually IS quite beautiful in it’s own unique way.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my daughter woke my son up and he’s performing a wide range of gastrointestinal pyrotechnics.

Somebody? Find my bathing suit.