live in the moment

This may be a little long, but bear with me; it’s worth it.

I’ve had a hard time. The short of it is unemployment, family issues, bad health, anxiety, grief. Living in any given recent moment at times did not seem wise to me. Until today.

I’m in the middle of a show/sale that is a massive waste of time and money. My fellow partners in this all gave me their blessing today to lend a hand to our professor, who had a dozen 11-year-olds sign up for a 3-hour pottery course. We smelled disaster and decided I should skip the sale in favor of helping him. Suffice it to say it was wild. He was very grateful for the assistance and I got to go home a little earlier than I would have if I had gone to the sale.

So, I call my daughter, who is frantically trying to clean her spare bedroom (read: junk room) so her sister can stay there for the next week. I offer help. She gratefully accepts and I wind up with her 18-month-old for a few hours.

She colors. She has a juice box and a cookie, which she asked for in a very quiet voice. We play “Pillows” on the air mattress. She orders my big dog around and screeches at my cat. Finally I undress her and tell her we can get in the pool. It’s just a little wading pool on my screened porch. The water was warm from the hose and she sloshed through it, saying “walking, walking.” I suggested she do “sitting, sitting” before she started “falling, falling.” So my pretty little granddaughter sat, put her little legs out in front of her and was still for a few moments. In those moments we heard a bird tweeting in the dogwood tree out front and a cat ran across the road. I was content. But then she threw her head back, looked at me and said, “Happy, happy.” And I said, heart almost bursting, “Me, too. Me, too.”

Mark this one, “Done, done!”

But most of my moments lately haven’t been ones I particularly wanted to savor!

...sort of. No school anyway. I slept badly last night, my old insomnia rearing it’s head again, I guess. Still when I woke up this morning I did my mental inventory: Is mom’s light on? Check. Are the dogs still alive? check. Can I move? check. All’s well – in at least a minimalist sort of way.

It’s been a funny year so far. I’ve broken my foot, my little dog is very sick, my Mom is impossible, I’ve had my first wreck ever and my head hurts. Still, I walked away from the wreck, as did the other driver involved. Either of us might have died right there had we connected a few inches differently. So I still think I have the best bad luck of anyone I know. All this sucks, but so far no one has died. Right at this moment all is ok, which is all one can ask.

I had a wreck last night. I think it was my fault. I was in an unfamiliar town and mistakenly thought I was at a four-way stop when in fact only my direction had the the signs. Still, I think the person who hit me was speeding. Nevertheless, I was the one cited. Both cars are wrecked. I’ll have to pay through the nose for this – but it’s only metal and money. Everyone walked away. So I am remarkably calm about this. I could easily have died or killed someone.

I have hope that Mom has gotten a reprieve of sorts and that I can reverse some of her decline. A few more moments would be wonderful.

My SO’s oldest dog died this week. My little dog has a terminal illness and my Mom is at death’s door. My SO and I have a difference of opinion about this. He shrugs and says, “Their dance is done.” I say, “I hate it.” I have a very hard time with death. I cannot be philosophic or religious or spiritual about it. I just hate it. We just have too few moments, that’s all.

My brother called. Not only does he have COPD, a fatal, nonreversable pulmonary problem, but his son has just been diagnosed with early-onset emphsyma, which has led to a kind of family panic. This almost certainly means my brother has A1AT, a genetic defect that leads to lung and liver problems. Our father died of emphsyma and our children have asthma.

Argh. We all have to be tested. My mother’s good genes have likely mitigated the effect on me as I have no significant lung problems tha I know of (and I would likely know by now), but I am also very likely a carrier and if my ex was too, my children are at high risk.

Life is short under the best conditions. We should never take tomorrow for granted.

I cleaned the pottery studio in preparation for influential visitors coming tomorrow, made numerous pots, got taken to lunch by my daughter and granddaughter who walked around the studio pointing and saying (to my delight) “pot.” I made a cake and brought it in to school for everyone to enjoy. My daughter got me a subscription to Netflix and my guy made me some neat tools and and brought me roses. My mom gave me a nice check ;-). Ain’t I the lucky one?

I feel like I’ve spent my whole life willing those around me to “just live!” When I was little it was my father, who died. Then my grandmother, who died. Then my favorite aunt, who also died.

Tonight my brother called me. He is my oldest brother. My middle brother is dead already. Now J has COPD. Stage III. It is hard not to skip ahead, to see him as I saw my father, gasping for every breath. But just tonight we had a good conversation, things were normal, or what passes for normal.

Also this has implications for me and my children. Apparently he has the inherited gene for this. Which means I may have it too and have passed it on to my children. Which also means my doing pottery (dusty chemicals) places me at higher risk for developing this, too.

Live, damn it, just live.