Comfort

I made cookies last night. i was going to share them with a helpful neighbor, but..... I didn't like how they turned out. Still, it was comforting to make them. I find comfort in baking, don't you?

On another subject....
Robert Frost said that he could sum up everything that he had learned about life in three words: It goes on. I'm taken by this quote today. I'm not congratulating myself by any means by saying what I'm about to say, but I'm merely noting the instinctive ability that we have to keep on keeping on. I hate that phrase, it is so ugly, but it holds such truth. So here is what I'm not congratulating myself on: I have really been through (put myself through, in some instances) a lot of trauma. I don't know that I truly perceive it as "trauma," because really it's just been more "happenings." There were days where I thought, wow, I'm really, really miserable right now. But I always knew that I could stand it. No matter how bad I hurt, how awful my heart felt, how black the days seemed, there was always going to be a new day. I love that about life. I love that life goes on, and when it's all done, it's just done.... but it keeps on going on for those around us.

I look at my Grandpa, this man that I love with all of my heart, and I know he won't be here forever. But look how long he's been waking up, day after day, and LIVING. Someone else might look at him and think, oh he's not living, he's just surviving. But his routine is living. The way he becomes irate when they do the before and after puzzle on Wheel of Fortune (because it really doesn't make sense if you don't understand what they're trying to do). That's living. He's done a lot in his life, and so there aren't many giant things left that he wishes to experience. All of the items on the bucket list have been checked off. Now he is living in the tiny moments that are everydayness to most of us. The deliciousness of a kitkat snuck out of his pocket. A delightful nap to escape the chaos. Watching a great-granddaughter taking steps when last week she was only crawling. Big hugs in the middle of the kitchen. Enjoying a meal specially made just for him by his city-dwelling granddaughter. A plethora of great-granddchildren causing a ruckus that gives him a whole lot to talk about. Watching his daughter care for chickens and run a serious business. Finding a new country cafe and then sharing it with others. Worrying about me slipping on the ice. He isn't skydiving. He isn't at the VFW getting lit. He isn't traveling near and far (though he recently has - to give him credit!). But the man is living. He is more than surviving, he is having an experience every day.

There is a reason his life continues to go on. He's not done yet.

Imagine all that he has been through, the trauma or happenings that he has seen and felt and lived. All of his family has passed, some of them extremely early. He lost his wife, my super awesome Grandma. He lived through wars and wore a uniform and knew great poverty and tragedy and probably hunger. He shared one bathroom with nine kids and two adults as a child. ONE. You think life is difficult? When I look at someone like Grandpa, I know for sure how good I have it. And that makes it even easier to keep on keeping on.

5 things I'm thankful for today:
1) Lessons
2) Time
3) Cookies
4) Stories
5) Life