The Journey

It seems that I have been searching for answers for years.  Answers to why I can be cranky, why I am a foot-stomping child at times, why I can be selfish, all very unbecoming traits for a grown woman.  I have read dozens of books, hundreds of articles, on how to be a happier Me.  Always, the answer comes back to Gratitude. Be Grateful, and appreciate what you do have, and happiness invariably follows. Okay, easy enough, right? Of course, life tends to throw us curve-balls. We can be traveling along in our happy grateful place, and something will side-line us. If we are adept at practicing gratitude, we immediately try to find the blessing in the lesson. There is supposed to be one in everything that catches us off guard, and usually if you look hard enough, you can find one, even if it seems feeble and you are slightly uncommitted to it.

In March of this year, I was given the greatest curve-ball of my relatively uneventful life. My Mom died. I don't usually use that word. Died. It's a terrible word. I avoid it at all costs.  I like to say,"She passed Over."  There, that's much softer, isn't it? Sounds gentle, like, "she's out of town."   Well, as far as my spiritual beliefs go, she is Out of Town, and although the reception is terrible, she does try to get through a call now and then. I guess it's more like a telegraph, when you aren't sure the operator knows what he is doing. Still, better than no messages at all. But I digress.   Until this year, I really didn't understand what loss felt like. I lost a grandpa and grandma that I loved very much, even though they weren't blood relatives. Years of minimal contact, and knowing how bad their health was, eased those moments for me more than I would have thought it could. Mom, however, was a part of my daily life. I lived a thousand miles away, but we would call and visit regularly. She would shop with me, listen to me, guide me. She was my best friend. She would have recipes handy, remind me what was on my shopping list, remember the names of people I worked with and ask really meaningful questions about something I mentioned in passing. I have realized since she left, that nobody listens like that. No-one asks those questions that let you know you really, truly matter and are special.  Not like a Mom does. 

Of course, all of this loss, devestation, and self-pity, to be honest, made me do a lot of thinking. So much thinking I just got tired of thinking. One day, when trying not to think, and feeling very sorry for myself at the fridge,(who doesn't go to the fridge to at least Look when they are feeling sorry for themselves?) I saw the memorial flyer I had made for her service.  I keep it there because it is beautiful and she would have loved the graphics I chose. The hummingbird on the front is simple, and blends beautifully with the color I chose for the words spelling out her name and the dates she came into this world and left it. For some reason, her name jumped out at me. My mothers name.  Her name was Vita Grace. Her grandmother named her, and it means Graceful Life.

I realized in that moment, that I was not living in a state of grace. I was not living in a way that celebrated who she was, and certainly wasn't living up to her given name, in any way. Despite all of my years of reading and searching and trying to be a "Happy, Better Person," I didn't even know who I was trying to be until that moment. 

Living from a state of Grace, a state of appreciation for all that you have, and all of those around you, doesn't really mean, "Being Happy."  That is a selfish endeavor. Truly appreciating all that you have, and doing good because it is good to do, not because it makes you feel good, that is grace. And if you live that way, happiness follows without effort.  She was always teaching us about doing good deeds, and I have always tried to do kind things. That day at the fridge, staring at that little folded piece of paper above the ice-maker, I realized my motivations had been very ungracious. I was flooded with memories of all of the ways that she was kind without expectation, that she showed love just by being present. Truly present. That's a big one. I'm sure I'll have an entire post on being present later. I am not a Present person, and it's a hard and humbling thing to realize.

I am still having the random epiphanies on how I have not been living in a way that I am proud of. Now, I am not by any means saying I am a bad person. I am nice enough, friendly enough, and am giving when it occurs to me to be so. I don't know why it took this huge Wound in my heart from losing her, to open me up enough to see how much room I have to actually do better. This blog is my attempt to remind myself how much room I have to grow, and to reflect and explore the lessons I have learned, but perhaps not really taken to heart the full depth of their importance. It's a place for me to share those parts of her that were just amazing while I try to cultivate more of them in myself. And, it's a place to share my journey with others, so hopefully, they don't have to lose someone important to them before they realize how genuinely rewarding and beautiful it is, to live life more gracefully.