Better Than Any Medicine

Laughter.  When it's good, it's very good.  When it's very good, we all feel wonderful.  That's how I felt today after lunch with some co-workers.  We laughed from the time we got into the car, throughout our lunch together, and all the way back into the office building.  So much so, that another co-worker commented on the way into the building from the parking lot, "I want to be on the next invite list for this group's lunch!" 

Yeah, we laughed so hard today that tears came to my eyes.  My stomach feels as if I just performed a workout, and I'm wheezing from having laughed for so long.  Above it all though, I feel happy.  Really happy.  There's a calm about me now, and I'm content.  Laughter truly is better than any medicine a doctor can prescribe.  I'm so glad I have co-workers that provide this outlet.  It makes the rest of the day fly.

Missing Father's Day

I missed Father's Day.  I missed having lunch with my father.  I missed having lunch with my father and my two boys on Father's Day.  Being divorced sucks.  You aren't able to have your kids with you 100% of the time, and nothing is normal.  Normal for me?  Growing up with just two parents.  All holidays were spent together.  Enjoying one another's company.  Now, it's logistics until you wonder why you even bother.  Because somehow, some way, the plans will get screwed up and it's all going to fall apart.

My new normal is scheduling festivities when I have my kids.  Around their mandated time away from me.  I hate that - to the nth degree.  What I hate more?  Missing lunch celebrating my Dad yesterday with my kids in tow.  I felt as if a part of me were missing.  As if I'd lost something I would never be able to get back.  And I did lose something - I lost a day with my Dad.  The knot in my stomach told me that this was one day that mattered.  One day that I didn't want to lose, because really, how many more days will we all get together?  We don't know, right?  We only know that we have to cherish the days we do have together.  Which is why I wanted yesterday with my Dad.

I will make up for that missed lunch...just the two of us, me and my Dad.  He'll open his gifts a day or two later than planned, but he'll still know he's the best damned Dad in the Universe.

The Cool Kid on the Block

A dear friend and I were 'solving the world's problems' this morning at work.  I began recounting a story about my youngest child and my friend said, "He's the cool kid on the block."  The more I thought about her statement, the more I began to see exactly what she meant.  Sure, my youngest child is an active, outgoing, never-met-a-stranger type of individual.  But key in on the last word of my previous sentence: INDIVIDUAL.  My child is the epitome of what we all should strive to be in this world - an individual.

My youngest child is warm, funny, quirky, yet seems not to have a care in the world.  Truth be told though, that child is always listening (even when I think he isn't) and taking it all in.  Then, at just the right moment (for him, not always for the rest of us), he asks the 'burning questions' that have been on his mind when you least thought he was paying attention.  If you really listen to those questions and don't brush them off as the ramblings of a free-spirited kid, you'll see a sense of wonder, thoughtfulness, and tenderness you might have missed.

While I may not always have the right amount of patience for such an active soul, I appreciate that sweet child more and more each day.  He's got a good heart, he's friendly, he's kind, and he is his own person.  That, my friends, makes him pretty darn special in my book.  Because if we all spent a little more time being our own true selves and quit worrying about everyone else, we'd all be The Cool Kids on the Block, too.