It has been seven days since my last run. I haven’t gone that long since Chanelle was born. The pain in my foot remains the same and the reality of running a marathon this fall is looking less and less likely. As this reality has set in I have found myself walking around in a haze of self pity and I must say. . .
. . .it is not pretty. I am in need of some serious perspective.
And so I open my eyes and I look. . . and I get it. . . I get it everywhere I look. . .
I get it in the morning when my little girl wakes up.
I see her walking slowly down the hallway with her wild blonde hair flying in every direction and her arms filled with her favorite blanket and at least six of her favorite stuffed animals. I watch as she lifts her head to see me standing, waiting for her to make her way to me and as her eyes meet mine the pitter-patter of her feet shifts to lightening speed as she exclaims, “Mommy!” and runs into my waiting arms. And as she sprawls on the floor coming out of sleep while I fix her breakfast, we share a moment of togetherness that is oh, so, good.
And I get it from this woman, my MIL. . .
I watch as she takes time out of her busy schedule and chaotic life just to be with us and have an impromptu picnic on a beautiful fall afternoon. I watch as she pauses and takes it all in. I watch as she pushes the kids on the swings, teaches them about little things like why Daddy Long Legs are important, and listens intently to both their words and to mine. I notice that despite the trials her life has brought and is bringing she is always aware of what is and is not important. And these moments. . . are important to her.
And I get it when I look at these two little people and realize the gift I have in spending my days with them.
When I slow and really take in the moments we spend together. . . waking up, brushing teeth, eating meals, taking walks, talking, singing, going to the grocery store and sometimes just existing together in the same space. . . I feel like I must be the luckiest woman in the world. I am so thankful to be able to watch them discover the world and to kiss their boo-boo’s. And while so much of what we do might seem mundane, I believe that all of these little things come together to make something so much bigger and so much more beautiful than I will ever fully understand.
And again, I get it when I look at this man. . .
My husband and the daddy to our little ones. I see it when the kids scream with delight when they hear the garage door open when he returns home from work. I see it when the first thing the kids want to do after dinner is go outside and play ball with him, just as they are doing as I write this. I see it when he takes time to sit down and share a bowl of popcorn with them as they watch the latest Pixar movie. . . . and he is happy to do it. . . all of it, because he knows that this is what life is about. It is about togetherness, making memories and living these days for the gift that they are.
Life is not perfect, nor will it ever be. I’m bummed that I have a stress fracture. But this pales in comparison to the many things for which I am thankful. I am reminded this evening that while I can not control many of the circumstances that life brings, I can certainly choose how I will deal with them. I get to choose where I let my eyes rest and tonight I’m going to let them rest on these things. . .
.. . . now that is perspective.
“Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means that you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.”