Today is Nov. 30th, and even though
Shannon's 30 Days of Giving Thanks was a November thing, I only really posted on this blog for 12 days (including today). So, in the interest of seeing the year out with a big gratefulness BANG! I'm just going to keep blogging about gratitude. It's getting some good press from friends and fam, and it's in keeping with this season of light, and my idea of what it's all about. It's also sort of an extension of another friend, Wanita's, project,
Random Acts of Gratitude and Generosity, which has been around for several months now, and is responsible for little notebooks in my purse, kitchen and children's bedrooms where we write the things we are grateful for each day. I have had a gratitude notebook next to my bed for years, ever since I first read
Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach, or perhaps before. I truly feel like feeling gratitude is a step to being the kind of person I truly want to be.
Without further ado, today I want to express my gratitude for my Aunt Lisa.
I don't really remember a lot from the days when we lived 'on the farm'. We moved when I was five, and most of my memories are filled with a sort of nostalgic fuzz. I remember a lot of feelings--I guess that makes sense, now that I have seen four kiddos grow up under my nose. The under 5 set is pretty much all about emotions. They are good feelings, filled with horses and dogs, kitties in Grandpa's barn, swinging on the swingset with my sister. There was the time I stepped on a bee--it flew into my sandal and I stepped on it. But all was resolved by having the treat of drinking the juice from the fruit cocktail. And mixed in with all of these nice, homey memories of Mom, Dad, Molly, baby Tom, Great Grandma, Grandma and Grandpa, are memories of my Aunt Lisa. My other aunts and uncles are sort of in there, too, but Lisa predominates. Now that I've heard some of the stories from Lisa herself, I know that she and Aunt Kathy were our babysitters from the time we were tiny babies. And, that Lisa was my special buddy. When I look at this picture, I remember. I remember THAT feeling.
Fast forward 35 years and I can still feel that. Lisa lives in South Dakota, I haven't seen her since my baby girl was younger than I am in the picture, and yet she is still hugging me from afar. I'm pretty crappy about keeping in touch with folks, but Lisa has made a point to keep in touch with me, and it is a wonderful thing. The miles and years melt away when we talk. Hours pass and we are still yakking away. I am so grateful that she has been reaching out to me, including me in her embrace, sharing her wisdom about so much. Thanks for everything, Lisa!
