Gratitude

Back in March, when I was very low, my dad suggested keeping a gratitude journal.  I loved the idea because I really wanted to focus on something positive at the time.  With dad's help, I wrote something every day.  Dad helped me by sharing his own daily gratitudes.  But, try as I might, I couldn't muster authentic gratitude.  I felt like I was cheating.  I had heard that if you fake it, eventually you might start feeling it.  So I persisted.  But I never felt it.  Not only that, but I started feeling angry that I was supposed to come up with something to be grateful for.  So I stopped.

Lately, gratitude has filled my heart - so much so that I can really feel it.  My heart feels so full.  It's an unfamiliar feeling.

I am so incredibly grateful that my mom and dad moved down the street from me.  Last night, I walked to their house to put out the trash cans for them while they are traveling.  After putting out the trash cans, I walked into their house to bring in some laundry that was delivered. I was overcome with gratitude that they lived so close, that I could walk to their house, and, even in their absence, feel their love and support; that they gave up their dream of living in Colorado to be near me and my family. 

This afternoon, I was so incredibly grateful that I could make Ben laugh, really belly laugh, at my facial expressions and my tickling.  He is so much fun to be around.  He's interacting with us, he's laughing with us, he's really here with us.  Seeing the recognition in his eyes is priceless.  Priceless.

Chloe hugged me last night and said, "Mom, you are the most special person in my life and I love you more than anyone else who loves you".  What?!  Is she 4 or 94?  She is a bottomless source of love and I'm ashamed to say that I haven't always been able to receive her love.  Right now I can and I'm so incredibly grateful for that.  It's true that children don't judge you, they only love you.  Chloe has given me that gift since she was born.  She is an amazing being.

And, of course, there's my husband, Aaron.  He is steadfast and loving.  He tries so hard to do what his family needs him to do.  There are times when Chloe yells at him, and I yell at him.  He takes Ben to the floor to do his exercises and educates him about us females :).  (we don't listen)  He takes us all for who we are, and we love him for it. 

It's a whole different world to me again.  I don't have to fake my gratitude, I really, really feel it and it feels wonderful. 

Laughter vs. Suffering

This thought came to me yesterday:  Laughter and suffering are incompatible.  We can laugh and be sad, we can laugh and be frustrated.  We can even laugh and be angry.  But we can't laugh and suffer.  The anti-dote to suffering is laughter.

A few weeks ago, before Ben's surgery, I was at a yoga class when the teacher led us into happy baby pose and asked us all to laugh.  I had heard of laughing yoga before - you go through the motions of laughing, maybe even faking it, until you really feel like laughing.  The idea is that laughing is contagious, once your face is laughing and you hear everyone else laughing, you will laugh from the bottom of your belly and hear.  In that class, I couldn't do it.  I couldn't even fake it.  Or, I tried to fake it and it didn't work.

But now I am able to laugh again.  Ben has been seizure-free since his operation on August 19th.  It's amazing, incredible, an absolute miracle.  The generator was turned on about a week ago.  I am holding my breath, hoping and praying that this will continue.  Ben is engaged and interested in the world around him.  He laughs at funny toys.  He smiles at people he knows and is almost starting to wave.  He is reaching his little arms out for me to pick him up, when he wants to be picked up.  His therapists keep saying that he's a different kid.  But, really, he's always been this kid, it was just hidden behind a fog of static neural activity.  His brain couldn't process the information it was getting.  And he couldn't show us what he was thinking and feeling.

I'm trying hard to enjoy this time because I have no idea how long it will last.  It's a lot of pressure, right?  But I want to savor this seizure-free time and savor the ability to laugh with my children.