This is it.
This is what we’ve been working toward for ten months. This feeling. This moment. This opportunity to stare into heaven and simply say, “Thanks.” Driving home from Target the other day, I did just this. As I took in the warmth of the sticky, sunny day from my position behind the steering wheel, I began to cry. I wept in happy gratitude as I remembered praying for a day just like this last fall. In my old life, I couldn’t appreciate a day in which I only had to run errands or sit on the couch and write. I didn’t realize how special it is to sleep in your own bed or get a text from your husband in which every word actually makes sense. In the time since our family’s last health debacle, I had forgotten the gift of simply enjoying an emergency-free day. Instead I spent a lot of time focused on how small our home is, where we’ll live next, and how to make life better in the future. Very rarely did I acknowledge how wonderful and charmed my life is in the present.
This is the gift of perspective. And while I sure as hell wish we hadn’t had to pay such a lofty price for it, I can see my happiness with much more clarity these days. The collective blood, sweat, and tears have earned us this brief moment. I don’t know how long it will last, but I do know enough now to appreciate that it won’t last forever. No one is entitled to a lifetime of happy, lazy days. We simply have to be wise enough to recognize when one comes along and savor it without guilt.
There are a few instances in life in which you are forced to your knees in prayer. In August I got down, ripped my chest open for all to see, and prayed loudly for help. This week, I got down, unleashed happy tears, and shouted thank you for answered prayers. Thank you, Universe, for listening. Thank you for a second chance. Thank you for letting me see what was right in front of me the whole time. Thank you for today. Thank you, thank you, thank you.