Happy Comes From All Around

Where did my happy happen this week?

Was it at Elkin park, where a little girl was equally thrilled with a princess dress and what might be termed a little boy's toy dinosaur that transformed into a truck?

Was it when I finally packed the last piece of chicken into a freezer bag and could acknowledge the accomplishment of moving my old layers from the backyard toward the pot?

Was it the dog that crunched my finger last week, coming up to jump on my leg just four short days after arriving for what we hope will be a step in rehabilitation?

All of the above.

Before acknowledging happy, however, I have to admit to one moment of stabbing pain at the much anticipated birthday party. For two weeks the date had haunted me -- the last time I saw my son, Ethan, alive -- at his niece's fourth birthday party was one year behind us when this year's party rolled around. I looked at my parents and had the mental thought that they were missing something, like something had been forgotten, and I realized it was my son who had rode with them for the last year of his life to family events, having lost his license and car (and very nearly his life) in a drugged driving crash. I took a few deep breaths, focused on what I do have, and went on.

I tried to avoid giving the date too much power, but after being blindsided by his absence a time or two in the past, I think I was wise to have done my worrying and mental preparation ahead of time. It was another family gathering and he wasn't there. I ate an extra hot dog, stripped to just ketchup, thinking of him.

So besides celebrating the dichotomy of my granddaughter's personality and my debatable dog whispering skills, where else did I find joy this week?

4. PiYo. After a four-day break that didn't really want to end, I forced myself back into my daily PiYo routine. Yes, it hurt, but I was glad to quickly feel the familiarity with the routine returning. I still hate that I cannot get to a live class, but I'm enjoying a fitness routine that fits in my small open space.

5. Realizing that I had survived the party, without a breakdown, without making my E1 feel like the ghost of her Uncle Ethan had made me sad. It wasn't hard beyond the moment, and I know that each one that comes will loom as a marker of the time we've been apart, then pass a bit easier than I expected. Only eight months into my grief journey, I recognize this as how my life will be. The dread of missing him at a time he should have been there, then the date passing without falling apart (I hope) and life going on.

6. Being the first adult to hit the pool at a birthday party and having fun with my little people and a middle school boy who broke my heart when he put on his glasses, because I saw my son in the misfit youngster. Yes, the water was cold and chlorinated, while my little pool is salt, but I was happy to have the energy to play with the children and race them to the restroom instead of huddling in a lounge chair.

7. Zumba class, even if it is just working out with a bunch of strangers. I did exchange a few words with one, who turned out to be my daughter's mail carrier. Plus I'm learning the routines and knowing where to step next always makes it more fun.

8. Getting back in my pool after chilly nights and lots of rain. The girls and I had a great time (and another workout).

Look for your happy. Whatever is going wrong, or right, don't miss the good times. You may need the memory for another day. I know sometimes I do.

Raining, Rabbits, Dogs and Cows

I had been crying just moments earlier.

It's something I often do when I'm in the car alone, especially after dark. Don't ask me why.

I think grief gets into the back seat when everyone else gets out. It hides in the floorboard like a carjacker, waiting for the perfect song on the radio, the random memory of another trip down roads I've traveled for so many years, and then it launches itself at me, grabbing me and shaking me and making me wish sometimes that I could go ahead and join my son on his journey beyond life instead of continuing to grapple with the pain of his death.

That depth of pain subsides quickly. There is too much to live for. Three little girls and right now too many dogs who need me. Life is good and I haven't done all I mean to do yet.

But I'm left with the tears.

Then I rounded a curve on my homeward journey and happy happened.

I wound up sitting in my unmoving car at 10:30 p.m. on a rain soaked night, laughing.

There was a little bunny in the DOT mowed grass at the side of the road enjoying a quiet evening snack and my SUV completely ruined his meal. He was like a Mexican jumping bean hopping wildly in every direction. He jumped two hops one way and froze, then jumped the other. I couldn't drive without risking that he'd choose to run under the car and I didn't really want to go on any way.

I sat and laughed at him until he disappeared into the taller grass, then thanked God for sending me a happy moment and finished my drive home, the tears banished for the rest of the night.

My happy this week has been in many ways much like that bunny, something that has appeared unexpectedly out of the dark and banished the blues for a period of time. Much of it has also involved animals, not a shock since my life is largely animals and little girls, but all the same....

2. New lion cubs at the NC Zoo. We were just there a few weeks ago and the two lions were the most visible they've ever been. The lioness, Mekita, was on her back in the sunshine, one leg kicking in some random dream. On July 30 she gave birth to four cubs. The birth announcement came a few days later and seeing the picture of mom and babies stretched in the straw made me smile.

3. Deer, slipping quietly across a dusky road before me. Because of my schedule and the heat, dog walking comes at the tail end of the day. One evening, just as we stopped to turn around, I watched a doe silhouetted against the sunset as she slipped across the road at the top of the hill beyond us. When we neared the house, more deer seemed to float across the road. Only Willie and I saw them, the bigger dogs oblivious until we were close enough to catch their scent, but they were long gone by then.

4. A frightened little dog coming around to trust. Last week I was tending my best friend's dogs as she was gone to the beach and she had just brought home a new one who, for some reason, was prone to barking and growling although not actually snapping. Even though she is a mini-dachshund, I didn't want to be bit and she did put on a really good show of ferocity each time I had to handle her the first two days. By the last two, she was greeting me with a wag of her tail and no more defensive posturing.

5. Salon pas. Seriously, my carpal tunnel has been killing me this summer and my good friend said she'd heard salon pas patches recommended for other sufferers. I stopped and bought a box of the house brand at Walgreens and after two days of grooming this weekend, found relief that ibuprofen had not delivered. Sunday night with one on my wrist at bedtime, I slept far longer than normal without waking early to that arm on fire sensation I've become accustomed to dealing with.

6. Little girls and cows. Little Moo was a big hit earlier in the summer, but the girls were also able to enjoy feeding hay to Moo's herd last week. Well, the big Es anyway. Despite her fascination with toy cows, photos of cows and cows at a distance, E3 wanted nothing to do with the real, noisy, moving thing.

7. Rain. I'm tired of it already, but it is forcing me to dial back some of my expectations for myself and I think I need the break. Plus it sounds wonderful on the metal roof and I know that this area has been needing it. That it has brought cooler temperatures so that cropped sweat pants and long sleeves feel good, well, there's a certain bonus to that as well. I hated not doing the things I planned to do yesterday, but I loved snuggling in cool weather clothes and taking it easy on myself instead. The fact that the morning's downpour had ceased before little people arrived today, meaning we made our troops shuttling them indoors without anyone getting drenched, was a bonus.

Emotionally, I'm a little more stable after a few days of restful living thanks to the rain. I'm more prepared for the weekend and looking forward to a "Frozen" birthday party for E1.

What brought you joy last week? Can you remember? Make a mental note so that you can find a smile when you need it.

Old Dogs Going Home, No More Fleas and Music

Facebook, frustrating and socially handicapping as it can be, can actually bring some good news sometimes.

Earlier this week, if you didn't see it, there was the story of Lady, the aging lab, who had been through two new families since her original owner died two years ago, and had bonded with a family that no longer wanted her. She had been adopted again, but ran away from the new home and walked 30 miles back to her former family.'

They didn't want her.

When I saw this story shared by some of my rescue friends one morning this week, it was a sad note. She was far away in Kansas and there was nothing I could do. Just a few hours later, there was a sequel.

She was rescued by an heiress who sent a private jet and an assistant to pick her up and relocate her to her estate and animal sanctuary in Florida.

Instead of a sad face that I had to try to forget, it was a happy ending and a bit of random joy. It was one of the bright spots in the week when I started trying to remember my bits of joy.

2. Seeing my poor Jack Russell finally sleeping comfortably today was a second doggy joy. The flea population exploded about two weeks ago when we finally got rain and with her allergies it only took one to send Abi into frenzied scratching and gnawing. It was so bad Saturday she was trembling. Yesterday I dropped a wad at the vet and put chemical weaponry to use. She took a Capstar and is wearing a Seresto collar (as are the other house dogs). The dogs who have been willing to take an adequate number of garlic pills are still flea free, but she had to have them forced on her. Organic was working slowly, but with her allergies I just couldn't prolong it.

3. Putting food in the freezer. Ray brought me a little box of sweet corn last week and I put four quarts in the freezer after we had some for dinner. I've also froze two quarts of tomatoes because my garden isn't producing enough to can and I refuse to let it go to waste. That has joined all the blackberries I saved from the earlier harvest.

4. Getting up at 5:15 a.m. to drive to a PiYo class. Yes, it was an awful time to get out of bed, but I do it for the girls the rest of the week so I may as well do it for me one day. It got my day off to a positive start with stretching and cardio.

5. iTunes radio. I've had my iPhone for months (upgraded for the camera) and only recently started using iTunes radio, which I've fallen in love with. Just a little better than the Amazon Prime Music playlist choices, which I first discovered. I love digital music and having tunes in my phone is too darn convenient.

6. An afternoon with a friend talking, sipping wine, and splitting our lunches.

7. Walking the dogs in the dark. They think I'm the absolute coolest human in the world for being out with them after 9 p.m. Sure, it would be nice to finish my day a little earlier, but strolling with a big white dog and a lot of others for company, the sky slowly darkening overhead, isn't a bad way to finish a day's tasks.

In fact, that's never a bad way to mark the ending of a day and recognizing the blessing that the day has been.

Oatmeal Pies, Pimento Cheese and Working Out

Right this moment, joy is a cup of coffee and iTunes radio while the rest of the house is quiet.

The girls arrived in rare form this morning -- a little late and unwilling to go back to sleep, even though it was still before 6 a.m. It made for a long morning. Bicycles, swings, playing in my kennel office, watermelon for snack, more swings, E3 in and out of the playhouse in some toddler version of hide and seek, and finally a bit of tree switching that ended when the twig landed wrong and there were tears.

Everyone was ordered to bed, even though I was the one who needed it the most. Thankfully, they were asleep in 30 minutes. They'd already been at my house for 8 hours and up for longer than that.

I'm tired.

They're tired, but they've gone home and won't be back until Saturday unless it is with parental accompaniment.

Zumba tonight is questionable, even though this is the only evening I've found a class I like.

Joy, however, has continued.

1. Feeding an oatmeal creme pie to three little dogs. I tried to get a good picture, really I did. The dachshund, chiweenie and chihuahua have never stayed with me before and were a little unnerved by the whole experience. But among their things was a box of oatmeal cream pies. My grandpa loved Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies. There was always a box around. Ethan adopted the same devotion to them and any time he got to pick out his groceries he wanted some, not the small ones, but big ones, just like the little dogs had. Their "mom" said to divide one between them at bedtime. When they heard the rattle of the package, they changed. One oatmeal creme pie and they were happy and have been all week, munching out each evening.

2. Sticking with my at-home PiYo. There may be moments I hate it, or stop to try to figure out how I'm supposed to do it, but I'm in my third week of six workouts a week. I've been taking Saturday and Sunday off and doubling up on another day. Being able to stick to it this long brings a sense of satisfaction and joy along with sore muscles.

4. Palmetto (pimento) Cheese. Oh, my gosh. That is the best stuff. I absolutely have to stop buying it. Ma Mary used to keep pimento cheese and serve it grilled with the slightest encouragement. I'm content to melt it on a flour tortilla in the microwave, but still. I know it's not the best dietary choice, but the taste is heaven and memories and largely impossible to resist.

5. My farming neighbor, Ray. On a regular basis he stops with buckets of beans, corn, squash, tomatoes and melons. I grow a small garden, but he sets out hundreds of tomatoes and acres of corn. When my sorry hens are laying, I have fresh eggs for him. We tease and wave and visit when he drives by to tend his crops. I value Ray more than he will probably ever know. The girls and I love him -- produce entirely aside.

6. Finding another Zumba class that is bearable where "my" PiYo instructor is going to start teaching next month. Membership there is affordable and I can get those extra live workouts in each month. The fact that PiYo is getting ready to go live again, even if it is an inconvenient hour, is a pending joy.

7. Sleeping little girls snuggled against my neck as I carried them to the car. Despite how tired we were, they are still a dose of sunshine and joy, whatever else the day holds.

Find your joy. Hold it close and remember it for whatever else comes your way.

Sometimes Joy is Seeing the Bright Spots

Last week beat me up physically.

By Friday afternoon I was sleeping sitting upright on the front porch, my book laying by my side. When the phone roused me I relocated inside and slept some more, eventually stuck with staying up until nearly 1 a.m. to make up for it.

But I had reasons to be tired.

On Tuesday I had a suspicious lesion removed from my right leg, and yes, it was some variety of skin cancer. I'm stuck with a bandaid, and I never wear bandaids, and will have to go for more excavation once this round heals.

On Wednesday, us girls, which would be my daughter and I and the little ones, all trooped the length of the N.C. Zoo in Asheboro, alternately pushing my jogging stroller with the two big Es, who occasionally took turns walking, and carrying a baby in a carrier (or occasionally in the stroller) and a backpack of food, that also sometimes rode. Someone said the zoo was 6 miles of walking end to end. I wasn't able to verify that, but we did cover it and got home tired.

It was, however, my busy week and I was determined to get something done, so I went to the kennel play yard where I had been wrestling artificial turf for two days. I then managed to trip over the porch and with a hoard of small dogs under my feet, I wasn't able to get my footing and instead landed badly on my left knee, the side of my right hand, and my chin.

I still cannot picture how that would have looked.

I did manage not to land on any of the poodles, maltipoos, Maltese, or Shih t'zus who were keeping me company. My knee was badly banged up, however, earning me a second bandage, and I even wore one on my right hand Thursday while I was dog grooming.

And I was enjoying riding with the top down on the back roads coming back from a grooming appointment, right up until I saw blue lights in my rear view.

But even those things can be things to be happy about.

1. I didn't get a ticket, just a warning, because there was some uncertainty over whether I was in the 45 mph zone or not when he clocked me at 56, which wouldn't have been speeding if I hadn't passed the sign. I didn't argue, and in fact had already pulled over long before he caught up with me because that little orange Miata just inspires that sort of reaction from a trooper.

2. Although I was scuffed up a bit, I didn't break anything when I fell, on me or any of my little four-legged assistants. My knee is still sore, but it doesn't stop me from getting around or doing PiYo.

3. The lesion on my leg may need more care, but the dark freckle on my forehead was nothing to be worried about. I can handle a scar on my leg a lot easier than one on my face.

4. The zoo visit, although exhausting for all, was a wonderful outing. The weather was cool for July and, other than the Polar Bear, we saw more animals than ever. Lions and red wolves and Red River hogs and bears and apes with their babies and more. I love the N.C. Zoo and its habitat structure, even though that often means we cannot see all the animals. A weekday during the summer is also a great time to go with no school groups (just a few summer camp type programs).

5. Having two of the three pieces of turf where I want them to be brings me a sense of accomplishment and, yes, a feeling of satisfaction and joy. The new stuff looks like grass. I'm keeping it washed (so far) so the dogs and I can sit on it, and it's just part of not letting my kennel get rundown looking. Fence cleaning and new cages still need to be tackled, but I'm making progress.

6. Dinner with friends. I know, again! My commitment to get out of that solitary rut we were in seems to be taking root. A friend had given me two packs of ribs and we had ribs, baked squash from the garden, a blackberry crisp (locally picked berries), and oven roasted corn on the cob (from my neighbor's patch), a salad and bread. It was delish and the company was even better.

7. Catching up with a friend over a glass of sangria on the front porch. I have found a sangria recipe I like -- the same one that had the potential to cause trouble during our wine festival outing in May -- and have made it twice. I may perfect it at some point, but it's good enough to share now.

Today's my only baby free day this week and I've got lights and a ceiling fan to deal with, blackberries just begging to be picked, a yard that needs mowing and a kennel full of dogs. Here's hoping next week's joy won't be on the tails of more mishaps.

But if it is, as long as there's some joy, well, it'll be OK.

A Clean House, Grandbabies and Getting on my Feet

Sunday was rough, but looking back, I had a good week. In fact, I can easily come up with a long list of things that brought me joy last week.

But then again, it was a long week.

It was my week to babysit four of five days, to get up at 5 a.m. and take sleeping bundles of sweetness from their daddy in the still dark driveway, then tuck them back into bed for another hour or two of sleep before starting the day in earnest.

Most of those days, I stayed up as well, burning the candle at both ends as I started motivating myself to do PiYo at home, and then went blackberry picking at the end of the day, needing the headlights to get home from the patch.

So there was plenty of joy and remembering it helps me bounce back from the rollercoaster dip that was Sunday.

1. E2 coming to me in the middle of gymnastics class and telling me she needed me, not because she really needed my help, but because she hadn't been at my house all day and just wanted my company. Sure, I was enjoying reading my book instead of helping a 3-year old reach bars and tumble, but I really enjoyed being with her more.

2. Time in the pool with the big Es when Mommy brought them over and she took care of the baby, who opted not to swim. We were able to be much wilder than we can when E3 joins us.

3. "I'm a mermaid. Mermaids don't care." E2 made that proclamation during our pool play Saturday. It caught on and we all love it. Where it came from in her little head, I don't know.

4. An evening with friends. As a couple, we've managed three weekends in a row with adult outings! It's amazing and it was so good to catch up. We should seriously make a habit of it. Not only that, but I had dinner with gal pals one day as well! How much adult company can I stand? Apparently more than I've been getting because both evenings, although different, were wonderful times of joy.

5. A clean house. Housecleaning doesn't rate high on my to-do list, except when company is coming. So inviting friends over for dinner meant I cleaned house. While I don't enjoy the process, I do appreciate the end result.

6. E3's ridiculous tantrums. Lying facedown in the driveway while her sisters rode their bikes because I told her not to get in the rose bush took the cake. Then she got up with wood chips stuck to her face. And thank heavens for my iPhone camera. My grandchildren will never be able to deny anything ridiculous that they do for more than 15 or 20 seconds.

7. E3's fascination with cows. Everything is a cow. If she can't see a cow, she's looking for one. In church Sunday she kept loudly proclaiming "Cow," as she looked for one on her mom's iPad. No one knows why cows have suddenly become the thing for her.

8. E1 insisting she could help me carry gravels to raise my turf beds. Of course, that meant E2 did for a while as well, but E1 hung right in there until I quit to fix us lunch. Sure, she was carrying about a shovel full each trip, but she was helping and proud of herself for being part of the process.

9. Falling into a blackberry bush with the baby. No, it wasn't funny that we were both scratched, but we weren't seriously hurt. I just couldn't get my feet back under me with E3 in a backpack on my back and I kept imagining a 911 call to my daughter's co-workers. "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up," I would have had to say. And then there was the fact that we nearly landed on some innocent turtle, and the big Es wanted me to get the turtle so they could see it. It was one of those much better to laugh than cry situations and eventually I got on my feet and out of the bush.'

What brought you joy last week? Whether you're coping with a loss or just the ups and downs of life, it's good to stock away those treasures for the days that don't make you smile. Never let life slip by without taking time to appreciate what brings you joy.

Grief Has to Chase Me, I'm Running on Joy

I've found that this summer is giving me little time for anything beyond living in the moment.

I've decided that's not bad.

So I blog when I have a few moments to be at a computer and be introspective, which isn't as often as it is when there isn't a bag of cucumbers in the refrigerator, a roll of turf still waiting to be wrestled by the driveway, a yard that needs mowing, and wild blackberries singing their siren song from road banks and unmowed fields nearby.

Grief has to chase me down, which doesn't mean it doesn't happen, but it has to catch me alone with nothing to do, and that's a difficult task. I know it's hovering nearby, so I'm not ignoring it and still find myself with a tear in my eye at moments when I'm not wanting to deal with smeared makeup.

Joy, still random, is easier. I'm a summer person. I thrive on everything around me and I'm already cringing at the thought of cold weather.

So I store up my joy. There may be days in the months ahead when the light is short and the weather cold when I'll pull out these writings to shore myself up and remind myself that summer comes full of heat and sweat and laughs and pool time and work.

1. Sisterly love. When E2 had what sounded like a horrible fall in the driveway, and I scooped her up to pack her banged head in ice, it wasn't long before her two sisters came to pet and love on her and see how badly she was hurt. Sweet touches from other little hands and a smoochy kiss from the baby. She was back to playing amazingly soon and despite a skinned nose, the bruise was never as bad as I expected.

2. Watching/listening to "Frozen" for the fourth(?) time this week while we drove to therapy in Winston. The big Es and I were engaged in a discussion comparing them to the princesses in the movie. E1 is obviously Elsa, who has a different power that sometimes causes her to do mean things -- her SPD. It's something she is learning to control, not by ignoring it, but by working on it. E2 is Anna, her little sister, who loves her despite it. (E3, not part of the discussion, is another Elsa.) We talked about how Elsa's parents misunderstood and didn't help her, and how E1's parents are helping with therapy.

3. An unhurried outing with the girls. I got absolutely nothing ticked off my summer to do list, but we all had a good time. We spent money at Costco buying good things to eat, loading the cart while the girls followed my rule not to disappear and were able to stretch their legs. We followed that with a grown up lunch at Jason's Deli and the manager made the whole dining with three little people easier by meeting us at the door with a wheeled high chair and coming by to check on us. So what if they didn't eat a lot? At least it was fresh and healthy and we followed it with ice cream!

4. A challenging yoga class. I'm still chasing a good workout since my dance studio remains closed. I went for a Zumba/yoga double header at one of the local recreation centers. The Zumba class was horrible and I would have been better off with my DVDs or YouTube for all the energy there, but I guess it beat sitting on the sofa. The yoga class, however, was wonderful. Seriously, I've never thought of stretching my toes! I would like to do it again, but I want to be sure I don't wind up with that Zumba instructor ever again.

5. Amazon Prime Music. I'm enjoying it right now. Although I've not managed to get it to work on my mobile devices yet, I do enjoy it on the computer and I've already accessed a ton of playlists and music I had not heard in a long time.

6. Being invited by Springtime, Inc. to send in a picture of Abi to be featured in their 2015 catalog. I was so pleased with their Bug Off Garlic, which I chose for a natural alternative for pest control this year, that I wrote them. I received a letter asking to use my testimonial, a credit for $150, and a request for a picture of my 13-year-old Jack Russell who has gotten over her summer allergies since taking the supplement. That reminds me, I need to send one in.

7. Blackberries. Huge, fill up a bucket fast blackberries. Almost overripe, tasting like a burst of blackberry wine in my mouth blackberries. While a week ago I was worried that they would dry up instead of ripening, now I'm picking as often as I get a chance. I need to write just about blackberry picking, but suffice it to say I've done it as long as I can remember and it's always been a good thing for me. This year's crop just puts it over the top.

Now I've got to get going. There are dogs who need tending and berries that need picking, and that bag of cucumbers isn't fixing itself.

Head Above Water At Last

Last week I was swamped in every sense of the word.

My kennel was full. My best friend who has a kennel full of registered breeding dogs was in the Virgin Islands. The girls were here every day except Tuesday, and it was Vacation Bible School with our "second" church family. There was grooming and baths and lots and lots of poop to clean up.

I was spread as thin as the last piece of butter on a thick slice of sourdough bread.

But even though I didn't have a chance to access a real computer, I did keep my mental list. "This makes me smile," I would stop and think. "This is what I need to remember."

So finally, today, the girls have gone home from their only day at my house this week and I can possibly catch my breath and try to remember those quick, unexpected moments of joy from the last two weeks.

1. Rain on Sunday morning. No, it wasn't enough and yards and pastures in my area of North Carolina are turning brown. I'm glad I don't have livestock to feed. But it rained Sunday morning and I sat on the front porch drinking coffee and listening to rain falling on the metal roof and trickling away in the gutters.

2. A return visit from a radical dog rehab. When I met Violet nearly two years ago, she was terrified of everything -- even the couple who had rescued her. She spent most of a week with me where her occasional lapses into tantrums were dismissed and ignored and she gradually relinquished her hold on her past. She's still a little timid, but she's comfortable with her owners and doesn't spend any time with her tail tucked when she comes to visit. She plays with the other dogs and sometimes decides I'm worthy of a tail wag.

3. An overnight with E2. Even if it was to take her to the dentist while her sisters went to therapy. It was still a quick glimpse of special time alone with the middle child. Hearing how much E1 missed her was a hoot as well, since they so often fight, but when they were together again E1 ran up and said, "Hug me like you missed me." Ah, sisters.

4. Speaking of sisters, I finally got to watch "Frozen" as part of the sleepover deal. It was wonderful to see Disney recognize that true love may be the tangled relationship between siblings, not just the prince and princess we are so used to seeing. No wonder the Es love it so! They don't get the romance, but they get two sisters who could practically kill one another, but who are really first loves.

5. Spending the evening with friends. With our fractured work schedules and busy lives, we don't do enough of that. It was several hours of being adults and friends, instead of filling the other roles we are often pushed into.

6. Seeing an old friend at church for the second time in as many weeks. My past career means I know people from a lot of walks and most of them, no matter how much we used to talk or how genuinely I value their friendship, I don't see very often any more. When one of those friends and his family was behind me in church two weeks ago, I know my face lit up. When he was back this week, well, there were two moments of unexpected joy.

7. Watching the girls blow bubbles and remembering that it wasn't so long ago they could just chase them. E1's concentration to get a big bubble and E2's interest in quantity over quality were fun to watch, even if they were dribbling soap bubbles over my hands.

8. Texts from dog owners. "You do not know how much you mean to us!!!" said one. "I don't worry as much when they are with you," read another. "It cracks me up how well she does with you," from Violet's mom. "You're the dog whisperer." It warms my heart feeling how much these dogs are loved, and how much trust their owners place in me to leave them with me when they are on vacation, or traveling on business, or even dealing with family emergencies.

9. A new baby joining a friend's family. When my friend shared that they were hoping to adopt a baby this summer, it made me want to cry tears of joy for her. Sharing that with me made me feel closer to her, and after all she's been to me during the last six months, it was good to be there for her. When she sent me a picture of the baby the morning after she was born, I did cry happy, hopeful tears.

10. Hugs. Especially hugs from Jacob, a young man at my church who like Ethan went down a path of addiction. He's fought his way back and when I spoke to the church about the abuse of legal drugs, he sat in the congregation and wept. Now I pray for him and his family and when he's at church (which is when he isn't working) he envelops me in a big hug much like Ethan would have done. Sometimes, I'm brushing away the tears after the hug, but there is joy there all the same.

11. A late night dip in the pool and realizing how darn much I like it. I hate to swim. Wouldn't do it unless a life depended on it. But a four-foot deep pool of saltwater in my yard is the best thing I've found to turn a sticky summer day into something enjoyable. So when I came in from tending dogs at 11 p.m. one night and didn't really want a shower, a towel and I went to the pool instead. Rural living has its benefits for sure.

12. Zumba class. Even though I miss my classmates and teachers, I'm enjoying my new Zumba class. It's fun to challenge my brain in new ways and the energy of my new teacher is incredible. Yes, I still hear a song and miss the old choreography, but more and more I hear one and start to remember new moves as well.

13. Finding a new route to a familiar place because of a bridge closing, and discovering it was faster and a more enjoyable drive.

14. Little tiny vegetables in my garden. I have a well that has always had plenty of water, so the sprinklers go on the garden at least every other day. There are tiny cucumbers, tomatoes and shiny purple eggplants and the squash and melons are blooming. I'm hoping for a few things to harvest and me and the little people are enjoying watching them grow.

That seems like a long list, but it's been two weeks and I can still smile at the memory of toads in the kennel light, a deer that looked as big as a moose from the seat of my Miata, a tiny turtle in the rain (and yes I got out and rescued him), little girls splashing in the pool, a "new" bike for E1 after her tire went flat, and so much more. While last week had me down a few times, mainly due to exhaustion, life is still good and still worth living and there is still so much to bring me joy.

I know there are days it is easier, that time makes it easier, and some days not even the most pleasant memory can pull me back from the edge of tears. Even on those days, a "Ma" from a curly-haired girl can still do the trick. All I have to do is hang in there.

Remembering the Bright Spots for Dark Times

Sitting in the shade, surrounded by plastic water bottles, watching three curly-haired little girls play on the swings and slide while I neglect, for a while the things that need doing, happy doesn't seem that hard to do.

Driving home alone last night, it was the exact opposite -- elusive and hard to recall.

So often the alone times when I'm not busy, when my mind is free to wander the endless maze of "what if" and "if only," I find myself in dark places. Those are the times that I conjure my son's memory and stab myself in the heart with the reminder that he died, that his memory is all I have for the rest of my life.

Those are the times when I have to work to remember that happy happens, and that it will happen again. That it's when I need to remember this exercise and the things I'm saving in my mind for a sad time.

1. Fledgling wrens. For weeks my front porch has been a hub of activity for the wren family nesting in the eaves. Sunday mom and dad were strangely absent and the babies full of vocal complaints. The time had come for their parents to lure them from the nest. While we were away at church, they left and apparently with total success as I heard no left behind chirps nor did I find any caught by the dog on their maiden voyage. A few weeks and there will probably be another gang growing and noise again under the eaves, as there have been wrens on my porch for years now.

2. Little green tomatoes. Most of my garden could benefit from a good rain, but tomatoes do love hot weather and they are thriving. Several are sporting little green signs of progress, although I've yet to begin dreaming of that first, warm from the garden tomato.

3. Babies playing in the driveway before the sun gets too hot in one of those rare games when they all seem to be on or near the same page.

4. The slowly growing sprigs of the fig tree I planted the Saturday after Ethan's funeral. It froze back to the ground in the horrible winter we had, but it's alive and while I don't expect fruit this year I'll be looking for it in years to come.

5. Driving my convertible with the top down in the rain. Yes, I did it. I didn't have far to go and I wasn't convinced those random drops hitting the windshield as I started home were really going to add up to anything. Well, by the time I decided I was wrong, I would have gotten wetter stopping than driving, so I came on to the house. Although I drove through one serious downpour, it wasn't raining much at home, and it was seriously hot so I didn't mind the damp.

6. Pedro's social debut. I took him to a dog washing being held to raise money for the group that rescued him and he loved on people and was cordial to strange dogs. Several people stopped to comment on what a good dog he was. I know it's only a matter of time until the right person comes along.

7. Spending time with a friend letting her dog learn what it means to be a dog, or a puppy in her case. We had a very nice visit and Mabel eventually found out that she really didn't need to hide under a chair because the other dogs were FUN!

Sometimes, yes, it's a bad day or night, or even a bad week. But I know that there are always moments of joy if I'll take the time to give them the credit they are due. I know since making the effort, it seems the tide of my grief has turned just a little and seems less likely to swallow me, because I know I have happy to hang onto.

Some Weeks, the Joy is Hard to Recognize

I would say this has been a hard week, looking back, even though I might not be able to put a finger on why.

I think it is the sense of grief that has hung around several of my friends, new and old, who within a few days timespan of one another marked the anniversary of their child's death. My Facebook news feed contained a trickle of pain that some days felt more like Niagara Falls. All those pictures of our children we'll never hold again in this world. Gone 11 years, gone one year, gone a month; dead in vehicle accidents, drug overdoses and drownings; snatched from our lives in a heartbeat that wasn't followed by another while we were going about the business of living.

Most of the young people I never knew; two of the mothers I've never met face-to-face, but their pain resonates in my heart each day and I knew the grief that only we can understand and share. It's been six months since I heard my son's voice. Sunday will mark a six-month anniversary for me and although I hadn't thought to give it weight, the weight of other's pain has added to my own. And for the first time the actual date, the 15th, will also be the same as it was in December.

So it has been challenging to think about trying to find random joy this week, which meant I needed to do it even more than on a week when the list could be endless.

Babies, dogs and reptiles still delivered the odd smile, even if sometimes I had to brush away an unshed tear to do so.

1. Catching a five-foot blacksnake in my hen house. Literally. I wish I'd caught his companion and I'm glad that four of the five snakes I've encountered this week (yes, it really has been that kind of week) were black snakes. There's nothing to freak your friends out on Facebook like posting a picture of a snake, in your hand, and wrapped around your wrist. Not only that, but I think I could be solving the egg mystery one snake at a time. I have caught two blacksnakes in the coop this week (the other was much smaller) and my husband killed a copperhead in the kennel one night. I've seen two more black snakes. Apparently the wive's tale about them keeping copperheads away isn't true. My yard isn't that big.

2. Another tiny turtle. This one was even tinier and so shy it would not stick its head out to entertain the baby, but E2 was delighted by it all the same. Since it was so near my home, she had the honor of taking to the garden to release it.

3. Gold Medal Day. For little gymnasts, it is the equivalent of a piano recital. They get to put on their moves in front of friends and family and after toting E1 and E2 to classes, and E3 along for the ride since the oldest was 2 years old, I'm an old pro at the festivities. So was E1. My middle baby, who is never daunted by anything and who has been doing class without help for a couple of weeks, was overwhelmed by the number of people and needed me to come with her. While I was looking forward to being part of the audience for a change, I was glad to be the one she called.

4. A baby sleeping in my arms through Sunday school class. Yes, she was hot, and heavy after a while, but it was such a sweet burden to hold E3 when she dozed off without her pacifier or blanket. Plus, she awoke in a much better mood.

5. Pedro. I know, you're probably tired of hearing about Pedro, but in the wake of what seemed like a nervous breakdown last week, he's suddenly OK. With everything. Including the big male dogs that would previously have given him a cause to be defensive. I'm still testing the water, but he was actually playing wild games with another male that he wasn't four times as big as. Now all I have to do is find him a good home, but he's sure ready to go and after so many months of work I'm so happy to see the dog that has emerged from the tormented canine that arrived last October.

6. The pool. Growing up I would never have dreamed I'd have a pool, mainly because no one had pools except country clubs and the indoor one at the Y. I don't swim well, probably for the above reasons, but I love my pool. It is a temporary, above ground one, but it's got salt water, and I can fall into it after mowing or anything else and be so refreshed and immediately cooled. Not only that, but it's a wonderful place to contain and entertain the girls on a hot day and it's finally big enough, after two summers in one of the easy set models, for floats and multiple adults and children.

7. A quart of red paint for my front door, well crimson paint actually. I've always wanted to paint the front door red. It's supposed to be good feng shui to have a red front door and I'm about to have one, except I forgot to buy a paint brush. Still, I have the paint and the plan, and it's good to have plans.

So it took some dredging, but I came up with seven. I figure one for each day of the week and I can pull them forth and polish them off if this coming week is as hard as last week.

I keep reminding myself that happiness isn't a destination, it's what happens along the way and I've got to work to have it each day because I'm never going to get there. It has to be within me as I go.

Do the same, whatever hard battles you're fighting. Recognize the joy because you can bet you won't miss the pain when it comes. Try to see happy when it happens.

Finding Joy Despite a Shitastrophy

Yesterday was, as another blogger has called it, a shitastrophy.

I had a dog coming to groom that I dread. She's probably a sweet dog, but she doesn't like her annual shave.

There are actually a lot of dogs who only get an annual shave (I have two) in early summer and some of them are comfortable with the process. Maggie, not so much.

The first time I groomed her it was an all out wrestling match and I almost wished I'd taken her owner up on his offer to stay and help. Generally, however, I can negotiate the process by continually talking to her, and watching her very closely. Unlike most other dogs, she doesn't signal her intent to bite by licking her lips or touching me with her teeth -- she snaps like a snapping turtle. I dread her coming from the time they call until after we're done.

When she arrived for her appointment, I discovered my long-term rescue, Pedro, had wallowed his way out of his cage Sunday night and wrecked the grooming parlor. There were papers, towels, and shredded cardboard scattered everywhere and multiple surfaces had been marked. Pedro was recaged, the mess cleaned up, and then I discovered Pedro was having an attack of nerves. Nerves in a dog frequently lead to poop. Repeated poop.

Before the morning was over I'd cleaned up Pedro's poop twice; he had destroyed another cage by shredding the pan in the bottom; I had to bathe Pedro because after he pooped and wore himself out destroying the cage, he had to lie down for a nap; and I identified the probable source of Pedro's angst as the French bulldog who sounded like she was being killed by torture although there was nothing in the world wrong with her. She was relocated to another location and Pedro was napping happily nearby as I finally tackled the "snapper spaniel."

After all that, I grabbed lunch (literally, I made a chicken wrap and practically swallowed it whole), dumped a tank of Roundup (not crunchy, but I'm using what's on hand first) on the weeds overtaking my sidewalks and chicken fencing, and push mowed the yard (no self-propelled, I do push mow the still grassy part of my 3/4 acre yard).

Oh, I hadn't mentioned before that I'm occasionally crazy active?

Well, I wound down after that with a dip in the pool (above ground, don't think too ritzy here) and fixed a cold supper for hubby and I. That was probably the high points of the day.

With a day like that yesterday -- humorous now, but at the time it was rubber gloves and gagging -- I need my Tuesday fix of joy. Who doesn't?

1. A tiny box turtle. I remember as a kid my dad picking up box turtles out of the road. It was a regular occurrence. I think he mostly drove by and picked them up from the door, and I'm pretty sure they got relocated out of their territory because we didn't know about such things. But he saved them from death on the asphalt and I'm prone to doing the same, even turning around to go back, although I try to just move them across the road. After dropping E1 at school, I noticed a turtle shaped blob on the busy road near my home and turned around to check it out. It was probably the smallest box turtle I've ever seen and it delighted two little girls for short drive to the point I let it go in a quieter area.

2. Falling into the aforementioned pool. Yes, it's an ultraframe, above ground temporary structure, but it's 16x4 and a step up from the little easyset one we used last year. I bought it used, it works with my existing filter and saltwater treatment system, and it doesn't leak. Since we managed to do it level, if we decide it's large enough we may go permanent above ground with decking and save enough on the installation to pay for the deck.

3. Fig leaves. Despite the cold winter and the hurt it put on so many plants in our area, my little fig tree is finally putting forth leaves. It did freeze back to the ground, but there is life.

4. Finally getting up one roll of the fencing we got last fall to enclose my garden and extend the chicken's range. Of course, we're only half done, but it looks good and it was funny watching my less intelligent dog run into it repeatedly last night in the dark. Seriously, I heard this strange noise and there he stands, and then he does it a couple more times and stands there at the corner. Eventually he figured out how to go back around the end.

5. Bottle feeding a baby calf. I'm helping tend critters at a friend's house while she's gone to the beach (she did the same for me) and feeding the baby calf may be the high point. The calf doesn't care that I'm a stranger. I've got her bottle and she's eager to eat.

6. An evening with friends. I spontaneously (as in informing my husband after the fact) invited a couple over for dinner, serving up steak, a new potato salad recipe, and cherry cobbler as my part of the fare. The evening was delightful all around.

7. Mastering my five-speed. It has been years since I regularly drove a five-speed. My little Miata has given me a few quirks. I've only killed it once, but was regularly skipping third and hitting fifth, but I seem to have overcome that challenge. I even barked the tires changing gears the other day. Silly, but it made me smile.

Take a moment... What made you smile this week? Yesterday? Treasure it to get through the rough spots. Capture it, if you can. Remember, that even if today is a shitastrophy, or the week seems full of hardships, there are reasons to smile if you look for them.

Family Vacation Is a Joyful Occasion

A vacation is supposed to be a guaranteed dose of joy and it generally is.

My getaway with my family last week was at times bittersweet, but at the same time it was a joyful escape from everyday life and the shuffle of children and dogs that occurs on a near daily basis at my house. It was a chance to get on one another's nerves even more than we usually do as well, but we all managed to survive (insert laugh) as the seven of us shared a two-bedroom apartment and realized after the first night that putting the people who needed to go to bed first in the living room to sleep probably wasn't the best idea.

Still, in four days of fun, there were bits that stand out.

1. Watching the sun come up over the ocean. I think I would do that every day if I lived at the beach. There's something so special and blessed about the sky and the water and play of light. I would sit on the steps from the motel and there was no sun, then a bright band of light over the water, and then in just what seemed like seconds a ball of fire in the sky.

2. Touching a swimming stingray at the aquarium and finding that it was cool and somehow velvety. Then seeing the look on E1's face when she made the same discovery.

3. Helping E1 overcome her initial reaction to the ocean -- an OMG that's a lot of water and what if that big thing (pier) falls? We went from a "Come on, I'll hold you" to a sandpiper to a "Come away from the water!" over the course of our stay.

4. Building a sandcastle with the girls -- our first joint effort -- and then lying on the beach while they napped and watching strangers stop to make a picture of the castle multiple times.

5. Being middle aged in a two-piece at the beach. Seriously, who cares? It's liberating. I wore what I wanted it to and didn't worry about "looking good" and afterwards, although there was an unflattering picture or two (where did that belly come from in those jeans?) I was just glad to be in the picture.

6. Eating breakfast in a restaurant on the pier with my husband where we could watch the waves and the fishermen, the beach walkers and the early surfers, and escape the chaos of sharing an apartment/room with my daughter and her family and be just a couple for part of each day.

7. Waiting on the pier one night for my husband and having another woman with windblown curly hair ask what I used to make mine look so good and spending time talking to her about natural alternatives to all the chemicals people think they need. (Oh, and BTW the homemade sunscreen kept little people who didn't spend too much time in the water unburned. E1 did wind up with a few pink places as it isn't waterproof and needs to be reapplied.)

8. Chasing ghost crabs with a flashlight on the beach with hubby, the big Es and their dad. The girls squealed and ran and I imagine the crabs did much the same.

9. Dolphins in the surf on our last morning at the beach. Sure, it was just a fin and back here and there, but while watching the pelicans fish after sunrise I realized they weren't alone. We watched dolphins off and on all morning.

10. Realizing that despite what felt like a haphazard way to get everything done at home while I was away, everything survived (although the little rose I got for Mother's Day was a near thing). The dogs were so happy to go back in the house from the kennel, the chickens were still half-heartedly laying eggs, the yard dogs were glad someone was back, the house was cool and the pool was warm.

So this week I'm looking for joy without the ocean, as the old routines try to feel familiar again. It's still here, still waiting to be recognized and pull me from dark places, just like it is for everyone.

Even When Focus is Hard, Happy Happens

It was one of those weeks that everyone expected would be tough. The week before Mother's Day and a time filled with cards, flowers, candy and plans for special meals.

Right up until Saturday, when I had to squash a momentary desire to stay home and avoid seeing the other families -- mainly because the girls might need me at church -- I thought it wasn't much to worry about. I had enjoyed a great week, indulging in my desire to bring home another convertible, whether or not anyone else ever rode in it, and enjoying my virtually baby free week.

The thought of those other families, those other moms with their arms around sons, of grown boys hugging mothers who had become the small one in the pair, hurt, I will admit. But the reality of Sunday turned out to be like so many family gatherings have been since Ethan's addiction meant he could not always be with us. There was a piece missing, but it's been missing so long that it wasn't too hard to go on.

And Sunday afternoon, after babies and their parents, and my mom and dad, had all gone home, after I encouraged my husband to go enjoy a few holes of golf because he hasn't had a chance all year, for a moment I felt the blues tugging at my heart, the desire to allow myself to wallow in what I didn't have instead of relish what I do have.

Instead, I grabbed my sunglasses and purse and hopped in my little topless car and spent nearly three hours riding the roads, listening to the radio, and reveling in the feel of the sun and wind on my face. While my little car may not be the convertible of every grandma's dreams, or even entirely random, I've found it is a consistent lift to my spirit to drive -- probably because I don't have to drive it unless I'm in the mood.

On top of the joy of winding through the gears on some of the winding roads, I went to town and hit the greenhouse where last year I loaded up for the garden that went nowhere (it was a horrible season) and finally bought most of the plants i was lacking for this growing season. And enjoyable outing, especially when the total wasn't nearly what it would have been at the large home improvement store where I had stopped to pay on my credit card, and I had the pleasure of watching the woman who owns the greenhouse planting cucumber seeds. Now this is down home growing and the next best thing to doign it myself.

The greenhouse visit also took me back when I stumbled across a small flowering maple on one of the tables, reminding me of one I had many years ago and lost to some plant malady. The small plant with its single flower joined my collection of herbs and garden plants, even after I saw several more showy versions on another table.

But my joy wasn't limited to Sunday afternoon, or a convertible, or greenhouse plants.

The baby was not in the best of moods Sunday, which normally would be a bad thing, but holding her through church service as she fell asleep in my arms helps ease the pain of what I was missing. She helped remind me to hold on to what I have and not miss the moments because of what I do not have.

On Saturday I went to shave down a Great Pyrenees that I've been shaving the past three springs. It's a back breaking, time sucking job, but the dog is a gentle giant and I had the chance to visit with his owner, who I've known since she was in high school and I worked with her mother. When I went in to clean up I saw the most beautiful miniature rose on her breakfast bar and when I came out I told her I adored it. She said it was for me, that she'd been thinking of me a lot and wanted to give me something for Mother's Day.

Earlier in the week the girls and I created my daughter's Mother's Day gift -- a painting made using baby feet prints to create flowers. Have you ever tried to paint a baby's feet? With acrylic paint? We were all laughing from the effort to keep her from touching her little feet as I tried to paint them yellow and transfer the paint to the canvas. The end result was worth the effort, although E1 did complain that E2 beat her to the color purple and she had to use pink.

Finally getting the "new" pool assembled and ready to start cleaning on today so that I can get it filled up ASAP. The temperatures have already climbed and I think we're more than ready to try out a bigger, better pool for at home family fun and beating the heat this summer.

I know that if you're grieving, this has been a tough week. I know when all the world is focused on one thing that we cannot bear to focus on, it makes the days that much tougher. I also know that by turning my attention to what I have, by not being held down by what is missing, the days can still be good and fun and full of joy.

Make happy happen. Look for joy because whatever you've lost, life is worth living happy.

Remember Joy is Often Fleeting

Don't take joy for granted.

Even if it seems like life is rolling along with just an occasional bump or dip, joy isn't guaranteed or earned and it's never something we should just expect to happen.

Walking in the dark of grief for a while is a horrible way to learn that lesson. When you spend days, weeks, or even months looking at each day as an accomplishment that you have survived, instead of a day worth living with memories to treasure, you begin to realize the nature of joy.

During those times, joy is like the first hesitant tail wag of an abused dog. If you aren't paying attention, if you're too wrapped up in your hurt and fear of living again, you'll miss it instead of encouraging it. Instead of getting easier to find, I think it would get more difficult to notice, just like that dog might decide not to wag his tail.

We have to look for joy and celebrate it and hold it in our hearts sometimes. Then when those hard times come, when we want to curl into a ball and weep for what we no longer have, we need to take those glistening pearls of joy out of our memories and let them live again to make us smile, even if we do it through our tears.

We have to help the dog learn to wag his tail like he did when he was a puppy, by rewarding it, not ignoring it.

With all that in mind, even as my pearls of joy begin to feel more like a necklace than the add-a-pearl chain I had in high school that never grew, Tuesdays are my day to think back and take note of the joy.

So what brought me joy this week?

1. Rescuing Hissy from the four-lane. This was one of those those "darnit I told you" moments that I had a chance to weigh in the balance and did the grandma thing instead of the mom thing.

E1 has a toy stuffed snake with elastic in it to curl around her arm. That same elastic meant it was kind of fun for her to sling it at the car window and let it snap back into her lap on the way home last week. I had warned her that the window was down a little and she needed to quit, but those warnings don't phase a 4-year-old. I remember when we were told as kids not to stick our hands out of the window to "fly" because we might hit a mailbox and lose a hand, but that didn't stop us either. Of course, while we're breezing down the four-lane, she begins to scream from the back seat like she's lost a limb or at the very least been bee stung. By the time I calmed her down enough to determine that the snake had gone out the window, even at 55 mph for a construction zone, we were way on down the road and turning at our exit.

The mother in me said it was a lesson learned and after all she had been warned. She could just cry and get over it. Ma, however, had a different point of view. The lesson was learned of what could really happen and it wasn't really that far back, if we could find the small toy. Rolling back up the four-lane I spotted it when another vehicle ran over it, sending it in a ball rolling on the road. We made another turn around and were soon pulling off the shoulder. Not a single vehicle passed until I had retrieved the toy and was back in the car.

2. The rescue of Hissy, as the snake is named, was a joy because of the smile it put back on a brokenhearted little girl's face. It was also a joy because after I left the girl's inside the house and began backing my SUV down the driveway I hear a small voice. I stop and look around. There was E1 at the front window waving. "Bye, Ma," she called. That was enough joy to get me through a bunch of days.

3. New cushions for the patio furniture. When my grandparents died, I was the lucky grandchild who brought home my grandmother's wrought iron outdoor furniture. One of my doggy parents had just refinished his aunt's set and offered to sand down and paint mine the next summer and I swapped dog boarding for the work. The two chairs, loveseat and chaise lounge make my covered front porch a comfortable living space much of the time. After several years of use, the cushions I purchased for them had become packed down and dirty looking and I'd been shopping around for new ones for weeks. I was convinced that I needed the 5-inch cushions like they originally had, but they are super expensive ($40 for each part and over $100 for the lounge, so about $400 for new cushions). Instead I found some well stuffed, thinner cushions, and on the grounds that they won't last more than three or four years anyway, bought them and we're able to use the furniture in comfort again.

4. Replacement hens. Okay, pullets. For whatever reason my hens haven't been laying as they should, even though they aren't really old enough to stop as the oldest are only 3. Still, I decided I needed to be bringing some younger birds along although I didn't want to raise chicks. Turns out a Facebook friend not far away had raised some pullets and sold them to me at a reasonable price so there are six new birds (one of indeterminate gender) in flock.

5. A memorial decal for my car. Before Ethan discovered drugs, he was a skateboarding maniac. He and his best friend had been run off from all the best spots in town and he lost a cell phone making an escape one time. I had seen other people's memorial decals and wanted something for my car and thought of the skateboarding. I finally found an image I liked and swapped a doggy haircut to a friend for four decals -- enough for me to ruin one and still have one for my car, my daughter's and my mom's.

6. Being able to reach out to another grieving mother. It's a different kind of joy, maybe more a sense of peace, but being able to use what I've gone through to try to help someone else does make it more meaningful. Having a purpose, a meaning, makes my loss a little more bearable.

7. Having friends who understand because they are also mothers who have lost children. There are unexpected cards, calls, messages, and this week a gift from a mother who was thinking of Mother's Day this coming weekend and wanted me to know she understands how hard it can be. Their thoughtfulness and love brings me joy, even if it makes me cry at the time. I know that helping me also helps them, just as helping someone else helps me. It's an expression of the love we feel toward one another and that helps us all.

So what brings you joy? Exercise your ability to be happy.

Finding Joy in a New Life Rhythm

For nearly five years, my weekdays have revolved around the schedule of a growing number of little people, and I was afraid last week would find me at loose ends by myself. The fact that it didn't, well, that was something to celebrate in and of itself.

My daughter's new work schedule means that one week I keep the girls on Tuesday and Saturday, while one week the only days I don't keep them are Tuesday and Saturday. Sundays the babies' daddy is off work and they stay with him and come to church, regardless of Mom's work schedule. Since she's working nights, I actually keep them the days after she works and on their daddy's schedule because of the overlap in work hours, and that gives her time to sleep, fix them dinner and spend time with them in the afternoon.

We've survived a week of each rotation now and instead of finding myself lonesome, I found myself catching up on some projects and beginning to realize what else I needed to do during the "off" weeks to come. I went to PiYo and Zumba two nights, instead of my normal hurried one. I didn't have to be inside or quiet during afternoons for naps. Although I don't want them not coming at all, and 5 a.m. is still an ungodly hour to be up for them to come, I think we are, for the most part, all happy with the change.

The fact that last week was also spring break for local schools and finally warm weather just added to what I had to do within the time constraints of the week so that when Saturday arrived I wasn't desperate to see the girls again, but I was glad to welcome them back and had plenty of moments of random joy to reflect on.

1. E1 launching herself from her daddy's arms to me, much like a monkey jumping through the trees, when I went out to help bring them in on Saturday morning. She yelled, "Ma!" and was obviously delighted to see me, wrapping herself around me for a big hug as I carried her in. Although she's enjoying time with Mommy, I'm glad to know that she wants to be with me as well. We spent Saturday morning at the local walk for autism doing Zumba and playing in the park, so it was a good time all around.

2. Letting the hens back into the fenced in back yard. The back yard was originally fenced for the safety of my smaller dogs (from traffic and the bigger dogs in the neighborhood) but more recently had been chicken territory to the point that the largely nonexistent grass was totally gone. Our deck rebuild, which has been on hiatus since last fall, meant I could not let them out of their lot to enjoy what weeds were springing up until new fence was built, but on one of those off days, I put up a temporary fence so they can enjoy eating greens again.

3. Finding a super buy on a bigger temporary pool on a yard sale page and meeting the couple who had it for sale. This summer we'll be going from the little inflatable ring, popup pool to a 16-foot circle, four feet deep. There will be room for more than one adult and three little people, without our bumping into one another in awkward underwater moments. Of course, now I have to get a larger section of the yard level and get it up (something to celebrate later). The saltwater treatment unit and new pump I upgraded the old pool to last year will fit it, and I cannot wait to get it up, filled and warm enough for swimming.

4. Finally getting a dusk to dawn, CFL floodlight on the back porch, which I've been meaning to do (is that a strictly Southern expression?) for ages. The light means we don't have to worry about remembering to turn the porch light on if we're out late and can still see to get up the stairs and open the door. It also shines down toward the chicken coop to deter critters and will mean a small monthly savings as we'll get the power company to come take down the big pole unit next.

5. Discovering a nest of chickadees. OMG! Those are some tiny chicks! My bluebird house is mounted on the pole for the above light, and we want it removed when they take down the light. Before putting in a call to the power company, I decided to check the bluebird house, even though I had not seen any bluebirds using it. Nothing flew out when I opened the front, so I indelicately reached in and probably gave mother chickadee a heart attack. Of course, then I had to get a ladder to see how far along in the process she was and discovered a small pile of naked pinkness that looked more like big grubs than baby birds. Needless to say, that means the light won't be coming down for a few weeks, but that's OK. I've fed the chickadees all winter and it's neat to have them nesting by the driveway, even if they aren't the bug eating pair that bluebirds would be.

6. E1 off to school and her two little sisters playing with what passes for peace on Monday after the long week of no babies. When nap time rolled around, since it was a gray day, I tended dogs, then joined them in a rare treat that did not keep me up all night as I feared. Of course, I dozed about 45 minutes, not enough to put a tired Ma off her sleep routine too badly.

7. A kennel full of dogs for the last weekend of spring break! Where have they been all month? My work is either feast or famine and the weekend was feast time. Not only had I had grooming to do all week, but suddenly I had a bunch of dogs and many needed nails or baths or haircuts, so I was busy and it was good. Most of the month has been slow and it's still my income, plus it was great to see people who had stayed home all winter and visit again with those who had not.

No, the week wasn't all ups and I was only spared losing it in church by the fact that I was in the nursery Sunday. When I watched some clips from service on line last night, well, I was glad for the distraction of children instead and the privacy of a computer screen while I wept.

So what brought you joy last week? Exercise your memory and choose to live happy.

As Life Gets Easier, Joy Seems Less Random

For almost three months, since I discovered another blogger's search for what brought her joy, I've made it a point every Tuesday to think back on the past week and find things that brought me joy.

I'm still grateful to Annah Elizabeth at The Five Facets for inspiring that exercise with her blog all those weeks ago. I still remember one of the things that had brought her joy that week was a new microwave. I'm reading her book, Digging for the Light, after being awarded an autographed copy shortly after publication. There's a connection, that thread of loss that binds us, but at the same time means I can only cope with small doses of her grief at her first child's death shortly after delivery and the pain and heartache that follows.

It's amazing how often, especially when things are bleak, when we're coping with illness, or grief, or any form of depression, we overlook the bright spots in our lives. Instead of finding something bright to cling to, it seems easier to shroud ourselves in a gray fog that keeps the world at bay and allows us to focus on our pain.

Annah Elizabeth is a regular reminder not to do that, starting her blog this week with a saying she noted while traveling: “Happiness is not a destination; it’s a way of life.”

So even when my schedule is disrupted by the 5 a.m. arrival of three pajama-clad little people, who drift back to dreamland while I begin my day slumped over a cup of coffee and isolated from my favorite keyboard, I'm going to keep looking for joy.

Having finally made it to the computer, with little people on their way home for two days (this is our "short" week), my brain a little fuzzy still from lack of sleep, I'm looking for the joy that I found in the week gone by.

1. I'd have to start with the brief spring thunderstorm that just blew through, although it made outdoor work impossible, soaked the kennel laundry on the line, and probably caused a drop in temperature. The great thing was I had been walking dogs and made it back to the kennel just before the first scattered drops fell. Although this was not one of the window rattling storms we'll see later in the season, I still prefer to be indoors or in a vehicle when a storm rolls through.

2. Watching the big girls hunt Easter eggs at their other grandparents' home Sunday. The whole day was off kilter because my hubs was still home with the stomach bug that raged through the ranks last week, but it was nice to be included in a gathering of "the other half." The sweetest thing was watching E2 put eggs in her cousin's bucket. I swear, that kid is just a dose of joy most of the time. (Except today, when she was in whiny, drama queen mode.)

3. Getting complimented on my Jamberry nails when I stopped to get gas on the way home Sunday. I never do anything with my nails, but one of my doggy moms talked me into trying them. I don't know that I'm hooked, but it was nice to have someone notice my normally ratty nails in a positive way. Longevity will help determine whether I want to apply them frequently or not.

4. Surviving last week. It was brutal, let me tell you. Between the schedule change for my daughter's work, some extra tweaks for dental and school visits for the girls, the car-seat shuffle, a trip to Winston, a stomach bug and the holiday dogs in the kennel, it was a rough stretch of days.

5. Not getting the stomach bug. I'm beginning to wonder if it might be the same strain that E1 gave me for Christmas a few years back. I was so sick on New Year's Eve and the days following that I can still remember the misery three years later. The fact that neither I, nor E1, or her mom, all of whom had it then, have been sick this time (knock on wood), makes me wonder if it's the same bug and we still have some residual resistance because trust me, I've been exposed. Repeatedly.

6. A spring peeper in my garden pond. Ethan dug my first garden pond years ago after we tore down an old shed in the yard. Bullfrogs found the pond fairly quickly and the random tree frog has shrieked from the dogwood near the water virtually every summer. But I've never had a spring peeper singing from the vicinity of the ponds (there are two now) until this year. I know, they're tiny and it apparently takes them a long time to find a new body of water, but 15 plus years? On the other hand, the girls and I toted home tadpoles from the tobacco greenhouse where they've been known to sing, so it may be that I've raised my own resident peepers. Either way, hearing them sing the other night brought a smile.

7. A sweet dream about my son. The few dreams I've had about Ethan since he died have not been reassuring. This one was in that, somehow, I knew even before I woke up that he wasn't here any more and I still woke with a smile on my face. It was as though he'd come to me while I slept and told me a joke that I cannot remember the punch line to any more. It still brings me joy to remember rousing from a dream with a smile and a memory of him just a breath away.

Funny, this week, it's harder to find those standout moments of joy than it has been at other times. I think it's because life itself is feeling more joyful, day in and day out. The weather is warmer and I'm thinking of pools and convertibles, mowing the yard and using less lotion, a trip some four weeks away to the beach.

But I still think the effort and exercise is worthwhile, because once you've spent time in a really dark place, it's important to remember how you found your way out and it's important to not take joy for granted.

Think Back Tuesday -- Can I Find Joy?

Outside the window where I sit each morning to write, there is a dogwood tree that came up, uninvited, in the flower bed near the house. It's taller than I am now, although I can remember when it appeared and I debated pulling it from its volunteer location. Throughout this winter, it's been a companion of sorts when I've struggled for words and looked for inspiration.

For most of that time it's been a seemingly lifeless and silent observer of my efforts. Occasionally there has been a cardinal waiting his turn at the bird feeder. One morning the house wren that nests on my porch each summer serenaded me from a branch.

This morning it is almost covered in small green leaves, a rising tide of life coming up from the roots. The lower branches are greenest while those at the top are still small buds.

I'm looking at it this morning because the past week leading up to what should have been Ethan's 24th birthday has been a hard one. It has been much like the period leading up to his actual birth, one filled with anxious waiting, uncertainty and dread -- although 24 years ago I was dreading delivery and anticipating a happy outcome, while this year it was just a day to mark without the person I should have been marking it with.

So I sat down this morning to try to recall things that brought me joy this past week, and it was like looking out over a foggy landscape and being unable to make out the things I knew were there.

Then I saw the little dogwood and beyond it the hot pink blooms of what I have to call my "slutty" weeping peach, because everything else in the early spring has a more delicate color, and just over the kennel building, one of the larger redbuds is in full bloom with a delicate lavender color, and I know the joy is there and has been, and that yesterday was actually just another day that will always have meaning but should not be given any special power to wreck my life.

So the trees, the season itself, continues to bring me joy, even though I'm fighting allergies and the fig tree I planted shortly after Ethan's funeral still has not sent forth any leaves.

Where else did I find joy this week? It's time to think back.

1. Eating Krispy Kreme chocolate-iced, cream-filled doughnuts with my mom yesterday in memory of Ethan. Just like me, those were his ultimate doughnuts. We bought a dozen or two each month when I took him to his appointments in Winston-Salem, and now E1 demands one on her weekly trip as well. We ate them with smiles, remembering how much he liked them and how quickly he could devour them. I remembered sitting at the tables outside the Krispy Kreme in the sun, eating and talking with him with the sun on our faces. My son had a limited palate, but what he liked he liked in large amounts -- macaroni and cheese, bean burritos, pepperoni pizza, apples, doughnuts. Good memories creeping in.

2. E3 on her first egg hunt at church last week. Last year she was a babe in arms, and she only turned 1 a couple of months ago, but she quickly grasped the idea of grabbing up the eggs. When E2 bent over and accidentally tipped a few of hers in the floor afterwards, E3 was on them like a chicken on corn.

3. Taking E1 to school Monday. That's one of the occasional "joys" of the schedule shift. She was excited to show me things at her school and it was fun to see her shifting into gear for a different environment.

4. Discovering that the sippy cup I found under the car safety seats wasn't full of milk. I have no idea how long Baby's Hello Kitty cup had been under the seats and when I took two out as part of the early week shuffle to adjust to the schedule change, I was shocked to see it. I imagined a lump of soured milk, baked by the warm temperatures and well aged to the point that the cup was probably bound for the outside trash can. I opened it hesitantly and found -- water!

5. Mowing the yard for the first time this season. Yes, by fall that may be an exercise I'm so over, but I enjoyed it Saturday. Last year I didn't get to mow a lot because of the babies and the kennel, but schedule changes may shift it back to my category of responsibility. And we've set posts to give the chickens the area of the yard we don't walk in except when we're mowing, so it was a quicker job as well, even though we haven't put up fencing yet.

6. The first seeds coming up in my garden. Yes, it's supposed to be below freezing tonight and tomorrow (bleah) but they're the early, hardy crops and I'm not worried about them, although I will have to tote a couple of delicate potted plants in today. I can't wait for fresh produce and love that my daughter is trying her hand at gardening for the first time this year.

7. An afternoon outing with my soul sister. My kennel has been a blessing I would never have imagined in ways that reach far beyond any fiscal returns. I've adopted an extended family, connected through four-legged fur-kids that are beloved not just at their homes, but at mine as well. No, not every dog and family that I provide care for reaches that category, but so many have. One is Sis, who like a child comes for daycare because of her family's long workday. We've clicked at other levels and after church Sunday, her "mom" and I had a girl's outing that provided conversation, a break, and an Easter dress.

8. The first song of a spring peeper last week. I love that sound of spring and have frequently wasted my time trying to see the tiny frogs that I've only actually managed to glimpse once in my life.

There's more as once again I find myself on a roll after I begin, the flight of a pair of hawks, the flex of my muscles pushing two girls in a stroller up a long hill, climbing out of bed without being sore after a hard day's work, etc. I just have to flex my memory and I surprise myself that there was actually more brightness than I thought in the week. Maybe the blues that I thought had consumed me were just passing clouds after all.

Exercise your memory, look for joy. Have a better week ahead.