It is news like the last earthquake and tsunami in Chile three days ago that shake my world. I am aware that it happens all the time. It happens all over the world, to lots of people, not just earthquakes, much more, much worse, much different. It’s hard.
My family is OK. It is hard to be so far away though, but thanks to technology, it’s a lot easier than years ago, to communicate and hear from them. Even last time they had the earthquake and tsunami (two years ago) when their power went out (because the epicenter was much closer to my parent’s and my brothers’ home) they were able to email me minutes later, from their cell phones.
But sometimes in the day to day in my life, I get comfortable and start to take things for granted. And though it is comfortable, I like it when I am aware of my life. When I am aware of how lucky I am to have the people I have around me, how lucky I am to have the life that I have. I am so very lucky.
I have noticed, actually, have tried to notice every day. I don’t want to miss things. I don’t want to take for granted too many things. I want to make sure I pay attention to my day. I want to pay attention to my kids, my husband, my friends, my family, my home, my garden, my neighbors, nature.
Like these bushtits singing and flattering about right outside my window yesterday. Their little chirping, communicating with each other, loving each other.
I don’t want to take for granted all the hugs I get from my Lucas throughout the day. Or that we are still enjoying the apples we dried last fall.
We have this little shelf with small drawers that keeps our placemats, napkins, essential oils and other little things. The napkin drawer is full. I love cloth napkins, and we have lots of them. Different colors, different sizes, different materials, from different places. But when we wash and fold and have to put them away, if they are all clean, they barely fit. So we push and shove, to make them fit in that little drawer. (OK, it’s a normal size drawer, I just have too many napkins.)
When we do this, the drawer’s bottom comes off its groove and then every time you open it, it also opens the drawer underneath (where the placemats are.) We don’t always need to open both drawers at the same time, right? So, we fix the bottom part, but many times, it just stays like that. And everyone comments when we get napkins, “oh yeah… we should fix the drawer again, it came off.” And someone will fix it at some point. Once again.
But this time, the time that has worked the best of all times, it was Siena who had a great idea. A rubber band. Not sure how she attaches but now, no matter how many napkins we have in there, it keeps it tight and working. No more “double opening. ” Just how they are suppose to open. One at a time, when you need them. (And I know, even if it is a great fix, I should thin out the napkins.) And I am grateful of little acts like this, because we are all living together.
I notice that Lucas carries his Inuit pillow I made him for Christmas. He brings it down every morning. Leaves it with me in bed every morning, after he wakes me up and we snuggle for a while. Sometimes he carries it with him until breakfast time. He goes back up to his room at night, to snuggle him at night. Every night.
I notice, shoes by the door. I notice one swim bag ready to go. They are always ready.
Yes, I also notice the shoes by the back door as well.
I notice the unmatched placemats. Left over lunch. Kisses for treats. Magazines. Probably not a beautiful blog photo of our table setting, but fun to see our real days. Our house is lived.
I notice the piles of books in the living room, ready to be read, ready to return to the library, ready to put in the basket. They are all there handy. As well as the Legos. Handy too, of course.
I notice and enjoy a warm chai in the morning. Sometimes in the afternoon too.
I notice the wine. The tea. The compost bin full. The flowers. The broken teapot lid. The gifted chocolate. The fruits. The clean sink. The beauties of having a home to spend my days in, live and grow together, and raise our family.