I have not written in forever, it feels like. I am hoping for a it’s like riding a bike experience. So much has happened in a short amount of time, I feel the need to explode with these fingers tapping away trying to catch up with my brain.
My granddaughter was born the end of August and is going on her third week of life. Wow! I have never been so happy,
tired exhausted, elated since the birth of my own children. Babies are work!
She caught a cold which is infecting not only her but everyone in our home. Seriously a sick newborn is the worst, they are so tiny.
I love how school starts and the plaques come home. Whatever you do, I never recommend Web m.d.That website convinces me someone is close to death every time. Anyways sick, busy, back to school craziness I am sure most mother’s are dealing or relating to this.
What I really wanted to talk about is; how truth is really stranger than fiction. I titled my father’s suicide post just that. I am fully living in the revelation of that!
The other day I was waiting for a friend to pick me up from the hospital. I had a bad reaction to one of the four medications they decided would help me through the emotional pain I was in. The depression and anxiety levels I have lived in for about 9 months straight have gotten the best of me. So anyways I weigh 105 pounds soaking wet at 5’7, I was sitting in the grass smoking a cigarette waiting to be picked up by my friend with my fuzzy jacket around me because I am always cold, crying. A homeless man came and sat right beside me. He asked,” are you okay, can I talk to you?” I answered “no, I am not okay, is anyone?” He told me,”I had a great day and things will get better, honey.” I was thinking to myself I am being consoled by someone who has nothing, but he had a great day. I could only guess what made his day great ,I made my judgment based on his breathe and the thick aroma of alcohol leading out of it when he spoke to me. I thanked him,” for taking time out his life to acknowledge me and that I would be joining him on his corner if things didn’t start looking up. ” He smiled and happily responded, ” you are always welcome.”
I told a friend of mine about this story. She said,” those are conversations with God, don’t you think?” My brain instantly went to the book ‘The Shack’. It is a manifestation of God in a way you can accept at a moment. I suppose if God wants to talk to me a homeless person was a great way to manifest because something magical did happen. Random Kindness. I have had a lot of random kindness coming from people I don’t know that well, some I know inside and out and some new people that just are kind, compassionate, empathetic beings. It is quite mind blowing and has opened my narrow vision eyes to looking at life a little different.
I can’t be superwoman, I have to ask for help. This is the most humbling place to live in. But in the end we can all relax; nothing is in control and it’s okay.