This Ain't Nothin'

Let’s face it. Sometimes worry overwhelms us like storm clouds taking over a sun shining day. As of late, I’ve been working towards taking life’s surprises, good or bad, in stride and crossing each bridge when I get there. This week, I discovered that life’s little miracles can often be granted even beneath a dark, dreary sky.

A couple days each week, I leave the intermediate school promptly at 3:45 to arrive to the eye clinic by 4, where I pre-authorize insurance, schedule appointments, and perform pre-screenings. I’m sure many of you can relate with days that seem to never end; not bad per say, just seemingly endless. When the office was cleaned and closed down, I took the familiar walk through the parking lot to my car. It’s been a cold week. The bitter wind makes my skin hurt and it burns when I breathe. I manage to get behind the wheel, take a huge breath of relief that sleep is near, and start my car.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” In bright orange letters, which happens to be my very least favorite color, appears the warning, “CHECK ENGINE!”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

Initially, I was flooded with a diverse array of thoughts, “Where do I go to get this fixed?” “What does this mean?” “How much is going to cost?” “WHY IS THE WORLD OUT TO GET ME???”
I did what any girl would do, the same thing I do to my phone and my computer when they have sudden glitches. I turned it off, and then right back on. To my dismay, the tacky message remained. I was forced to resort to PLAN B: ignore it and worry about it tomorrow. I mean, it’s 8 o’clock on a Tuesday night. Car shops aren’t going to be open anyway.

Car problem; solved. Now, what about my blood pressure? It was time to engage in emergency therapy; loud music, a long run, and a deep hydrating facial mask. I appreciate country music for the most part, but it came in especially handy this particular night.

“He said I lost my daddy, when I was eight years old,
That cave-in at the Kincaid mine left a big old hole,
And I lost my baby brother, my best friend and my left hand
In a no win situation in a place called Vietnam
And last year I watched my loving wife, of fifty years waste away and die
We were holding hands when her heart of gold stopped pumping
So this ain't nothin'”

Please excuse the tragic grammar of Craig Morgan, but consider his words. “This ain’t nothin.”
Nobody likes bad days, but without them, the good days wouldn’t be so great. Most of the time, it seems that ‘when it rains, it pours.’ Fortunately though, storms don’t last forever. In fact, doubt, dread, and despair will move out as quickly as they arrived. Be still and know. Life goes on. Things get better. “This ain’t nothin’!”

And now, for the rest of the story…

My check engine light was off the next morning. It was nothing…

Once In a Lifetime

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Looking back, I can recall many times that I was a part of something special, something so much greater than myself. At the time, it seemed like just another day. Now, though, I wish I had pictures, or perhaps a recording of my thoughts of those times. Blame it on youth or perhaps carelessness, I let the moments pass; wishing for the next moment, hoping for what lie ahead, never embracing the present for all the beauty it be held.

There are times I can vaguely remember. Memories I know are once in a life time. I had just arrived back to my step-grandparents’ house from the Canton skating rink when O.J. Simpson was being chased for the murder of his wife. I was in high school chemistry class when I heard the news of 9/11. I was in the audience when my baby brother crossed the stage to receive his college diploma. I can even remember the horror that overcame me when I ran barefoot down the hospital hallways when I was informed my mother had cancer.

Other times I regret I have no recollection. Where was I when the Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City? How did I feel when my best friend said, “I do” to the man she will spend the rest of her life with? Where was I when she told me she would soon be called “mommy”? These things, I simply can’t remember because I made no point to commit them to long-term memory. Instead, I let the emotion and anxiety go unintentionally with the passing of the moment.

This time, I won’t allow the time to pass without devoting a written record to the beauty of the moment.

It’s the eve of New Year’s Eve and I’m snowed in to beautiful cabin in Durango, Colorado. The trip began Christmas Day with a road trip and overnight stay to Santa Fe, New Mexico followed by another day driving and fun filled evening in our final destination. Our first two complete days in Durango were spent skiing Purgatory from the instant the lifts opened until sunset required they close. Beautiful surroundings, a great time in the snow, and not a responsibility one was tainted only by a single worry; the incoming snowstorm defined by any Texan as a sure fire blizzard.

And so here I am, two days later, in the same exact spot on the couch. Our vehicle hasn’t budged. The front doors can’t be opened for fear of the 5-feet snow flooding inside. I sit watching the snow continue to fall. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’ve skied more times than I count. The snow, even for a Texan, is nothing new to me, but being truly snowed-in… this is a first time experience.
As we watched the storm move in, I was a little hesitant to embrace the moment. In fact, I instantly wondered what I would do for a week and how in the dear heavens I’d get along with my company. I admit, everything was going better than expected when someone expressed, “you know, something like this will never happen to us again in our lifetime.”

Once in a life time…

I’m forced in to relaxation and solitude from everyone except the constituents of this house. I’m the only person whose phone has absolutely no service; thank you AT&T. I now apologize for my ceaseless texting and inability to separate from my trusty iPhone, because I realize how completely wasteful it is to simply not be able to enjoy the moment. How much time, I wonder, has passed me by because I’ve been texting, reading e-mail, or albeit checking Facebook? Snowed-in lesson number 1, I’ll be rejoining the world less dependent on my little cellular device.
Prior to my arrival, I allotted myself a budget to spend at the town’s fabulous boutiques. I prefer small shops over mall stores that way I don’t show up in the same outfit as someone else. Thank you, Anna. Since the snow, though, is half the height of the garage door, there’s no shopping for me. Instead, I’ve taken complete advantage of nature’s ensemble. Breath-taking mountains accessorized with white so fine it looks like billions of diamonds sparkling beneath the winter shine. Move over Prada, God-a is the true fashionista, and I don’t even have to max out my credit card or anyone else’s to enjoy. Snowed-in lesson number 2, save the cheddah, nature is betta!

There’s no end in sight to the snow storm we’re currently facing. I haven’t seen the sky clear in two days, and the forecast for tomorrow is no different. With all this time on my hands, I’m sure there are many lessons to be learned prior to my departure. I welcome them with open arms. I gladly embrace the timeless elegance of these moments that’ll never come again. Snowed-in lesson number 3, live for today, don’t worry about tomorrow. After all, tomorrow will worry about itself.