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.

Random Joy in a Week of Spring

Spring is my favorite season and finding joy is a lot easier as the grass turns green and the trees and flowers bud.

It's a time when things that have seemed dead return to life, and in ways that makes it a hard time because what has been dead in my life won't be coming back to life. Still, Ethan preferred the cold and was never one to get out and enjoy the season, so he wouldn't miss the fact that the seasons are turning.

Last week I found myself humming a song from my middle school days -- "Seasons in the Sun," performed in 1974 by Terry Jacks. "We had joy. We had fun. We had seasons in the sun... Now that the spring is in the air, little children everywhere, when you see them I'll be there." Every turning of the calendar marks a month I don't share with my son, things I cannot tell him, a time when he becomes more a memory and a part of the past, no matter how big he lives in my heart.

His looming birthday has also overshadowed the season. I approach it with a sense of trepidation that probably keeps me from embracing each sunny day as it rolls around. All the same, I found joy in the past week, not in just the changing season but in the individual signs that winter is slipping away.

1. Tilling my garden with my monster tiller in shorts and halter top. It was a glorious afternoon and I followed the tilling with raking and the planting of several early crops.

2. My kennel dogs on a sunny afternoon. I had a lot of little dogs who've spent a lot of time with me this weekend and Sunday afternoon I sat on the ground and let them "waller" me. It was so much fun, I tried for a selfie and was pleased to see what looked like a happy face in the picture.

3. The first tulip of the spring. It blooms between my office and kennel building in a sheltered spot blessed by the morning sun, far ahead of its peers as its pink petals unfurl to the day.

4. The purple hue of redbuds. My Ma Mary (the Ma in my life) always loved redbuds. Years before she died peacefully in her recliner with Pa by her side, I bought her a redbud and planted it in her front yard where she could see it without having to try to find one blooming in the woods. My yard literally swarms with redbuds, natural ones that sprang up and a few I've planted. When I see them I always think of Ma.

5. Leaves on the apple tree I grafted last year. I had never done grafting but decided to try it when I saw a class offered at the Cooperative Extension Service. The Virginia Beauty lived and grew last summer in a pot and has now been transferred into its forever home. Leaves the size of mouse ears are emerging as evidence that it survived the winter and may one day give me crisp, red apples.

6. Rain on Monday. Yes, I'd rather have a sunny day, but rain is good. I planted lettuce, herbs, spinach and radishes last week and the rain will be good for the little seeds in the ground.

7. A shared confidence from a friend. The possibility made my heart sing and made me want to weep happy tears. I'll be praying for it to become a reality and holding the secret like a treasure in my heart to bring me joy with its meaning and potential.

A week of joy and the realization that it seems to get easier, even though when I have a hard day it feels just as hard as any I've had, has pushed me into April and a bit further from despair. Yet, even when this exercise is easier, I never want to take joy for granted because that is one of the illusions that has been shattered by losing my son. Even the things we cling to can suddenly disappear like water through our fingers, so we need to take time to take note of what brings us joy.

Random, and Not So Random, Joy in My Week

There have been times this week when my joy didn't seem as random.

I was doing things that should bring me joy, and they did, but lately that has been no guarantee. Of course, the joy wasn't always as expected.

There was a joy event -- a shopping trip to Winston with my friend and, as I call her, soul sister. Now, I'm not a shopping person and I hate to drive in Winston, but then she did the driving (score one joy) and we weren't doing a clothing shopping day, we were going to Costco and Trader Joe's and Starbucks and Krispy Kreme.

Other than being accused of actually being sisters because of some resemblance, our lives are on very different paths, but we connect in ways that are important and care about one another, even if there are big differences. It was beyond joyous to spend an afternoon talking, laughing, and indulging ourselves in the purchase of such things as large bags of dried cherries, dark chocolate quinoa bark, mega containers of greens, and an assortment of other goodies that each time we pull them out to eat will trigger a memory of the trip.

Of course, even had we not bought anything -- which some people would have considered a totally wasted trip -- it would have been a joy just to be be out, to be with someone to talk to, and to enjoy the weather which was spring advanced by a week or two from where we live.

The joy I would have liked to have captured on camera came earlier in the week, but late in the day, when I was tired, frustrated, and just wanted to be done, not going to the drive through at Dairy Queen because E1 had a coupon from school for a free child's cone.

That was one of those events that should be fun, but wasn't expected to be because it was 7:30 at night, we'd just finished the Awanas program at the nearby church, and I'd had the two small Es since before 9 a.m. that morning. I didn't want to do it, but I had mentioned it and they were insistent.

My SUV isn't ideal for a group of children, or maybe it is. E1's seat is in the center of the back seat with her little sisters on either side, because she can do more to get herself in the seat, even though the whole arrangement is a pain. When we got the cone I pulled over in the parking lot and began rotating it between the two bigger girls, both within a stretching arms length.

E3 promptly pulled her paci out and did her "I want that noise," so that she, too, became part of the rotation. But the cone was going down slowly and I wanted to get back to their mom's workplace to be ready to hand them off. That meant I needed to drive.

I gave E1 the cone and told her to share. That was when it got special. Driving down the road in the growing dark I listen to her patiently handing the cone to E2, then holding it for E3 to get a bite. It was that kind of magical time little children sometimes share when they aren't fighting over toys or pushing one another around and I couldn't even see it because I was driving.

Of course, then the top fell off the cone in E1's lap and I was really glad I asked for extra napkins -- even more so when I saw E3's face. But it was all good.

There were more random bits of joy through the week as well.

1. E3's happy exclamation when she saw the jogging stroller making its first appearance of the spring. She loved it last summer, but I didn't really think about her remembering it so enthusiastically. I took the two little Es for an after lunch stroll/jog Friday afternoon when it was t-shirt weather and remembered what a good workout it was. Of course, big dogs including Pedro went along and he did fabulously with the stroller despite having never been around one.

2. Watching E2 play big kid and help a toddler swing as her big sister used to help her. It's one of those two child swings and one who knows what she's doing can make it work for both. There were grins and squeals of delight from both.

3. Getting two large trees taken down. Usually, my husband and I do our own tree cutting and sawing -- I love running a chainsaw. But between his six-day work schedule and the fact that he broke his arm four weeks ago, we had two trees still standing that I did not want to go through another summer with even though I hated to give either of them up. One was a giant, damaged poplar that shaded the kennel yard and worried me every time a summer storm blew through because it lost a limb that didn't heal and was weak. I hired someone to take it down, and it also took down a section of fence and damaged some pavement, but it's down and the building is intact. The second was a beautiful maple that just provided shade in the wrong place, casting a dark shadow over the level spot where we pop up a pool in the summer. It had to be gone before we put the pool up this year and we gave it away for firewood to a friend/neighbor who dropped it perfectly in my front yard. I helped him cut it up and have nothing but brush and a stump to remember it by.

4. Flowers that simultaneously made me cry. The crocus and budding daffodils pictured above were planted by Ethan at the homeless shelter where he lived and were shared by the shelter on Facebook. They're a reminder of what's gone, what's left behind, and that a lot of people remember and cared about him. My own flowers bring me joy as well, but those are special, even if I never actually see them with my own eyes.

5. One more unexpected snow day. Yes, I'm totally over winter. Yes, I've seen enough snow. But as of now, it's not sticking to the roads, it's falling in big beautiful flakes and sticking to everything and I think I'm gonna take my camera, bundle up and go outside. Hoping this is winter's last hurrah.

So look for joy where you don't expect it, and where you do, even if you're tired, frustrated, and would just as soon be doing something else. I'm working to not let the blinders of grief keep me from seeing the good and letting them help me heal. Today, it wasn't as much work as some weeks, but that doesn't mean I think I've turned a corner, it just means one good week to celebrate.

Think Back Tuesday -- What Makes You Smile?

Yes, it's that time again. It has snowed a little, again. Another week is underway and it is oh, so long until the weekend.

But it's Think Back Tuesday.

I started out struggling through my undertaking. Three things came easily and I challenged myself. "Think of at least seven. You need seven things that you didn't expect to make you smile that did."

By the time I pushed myself to six, they were rolling out and I think the list could have gone on and on.

1. Making it to PiYo and Zumba last Monday after I had resigned myself to not getting to go when someone drove through the front of the store where my son-in-law is manager. Going to class means I have to be able to take the girls home, and it looked like he was going to be stuck at work so that wasn't an option, but things worked out.

2. Going to the grocery store with E2 to pick out a pizza for dinner Thursday night after gymnastics. While we had fallen into the Little Cesar's habit/trap, there's been some kind of problem at our local option. They may be hot, but they aren't ready and the previous week the three of us agreed that we would not sit in line for 45 minutes for a pizza any more. Get help, get an oven fixed, whatever. The joy was E2's delight in being the one to pick a pizza and choosing which one looked the most delicious to her (plus not sitting in that infernal line).

3. A new song from the Newsboys that I heard while grooming dogs Saturday. I don't normally get to spend a lot of time with a radio, so I had not heard "We Believe." I was singing along with the chorus before the song ended and went to Amazon to buy and download it yesterday so I could hear it again.

4. Watching the rescue bulldog Pedro play with the teenager who helps me out around the kennel twice a week. Pedro came with so many issues to overcome after a life of neglect that there were times even after he was in rescue care that they considered having him euthanized. He had been labeled dog and food aggressive, had never bonded with a human and actually bit me over food a short time into his stay. But we've worked on his issues and while he still doesn't like other males if he is off leash, he is the most absolutely fun dog to have around and watching him come barreling in with happy eyes and a wagging tail makes a lot of my work seem worthwhile. I'm his first love, but I think he'll be able to love again.

5. Our two-week delayed Valentine's Dinner at church, where we sat with people we didn't really know well. If you're thinking stuffy meal, you don't know my church or my pastor and his wife. The meal was great and my husband managed without me needing to cut his meat after breaking his arm at work last Tuesday (not joy). After the meal a round of the Newlywed Game and a balloon dance had us laughing and getting to know one another a lot better.

6. Meeting another mom who's followed my journey because of this blog. On Saturday, I cried with a mom whose son is an addict and who fears this path I'm on. Yes, we met through Facebook and this blog because we are grieving, if not the actual loss of our sons then the loss of who he could have been. We shared stories that we wouldn't talk about with a mother not on this journey and we cried a little together, which is better than crying alone. Reaching out to her and others makes me feel like I can do something despite the pain and a purpose that brings a flash of joy.

7. Eight eggs a day for three days in a row from my backyard hens. It's not so much the eggs, although they are welcome, as it is the sign that spring may be more than a skunky smell in the air. Hens are notorious for not laying in cold/dark weather, so increased production means they feel something I'm wishing for.

8. A surprise birthday party for one of my "doggy moms". When I opened my kennel, a little six-month old ball of fur named Chipper was my first guest. Now it's been years and I count Chipper's "mom and dad," and a lot of my doggy "parents" as real friends. When Ethan died, Chipper's parents were one of my doggy families who showed up for the service. On Saturday, her family had planned a surprise 65th birthday and I had been invited by a daughter. Despite what shaped up to be a hectic day, I went and had a really good time. It was so nice to celebrate with her and her family and friends.

9. Hosting a "dinner party." Seriously, I don't entertain. It's like no one but family or occasionally another couple (very rarely) comes to my house. It used to be my kitchen/dining area, which I hated, but I remodeled it (mostly myself) last spring. Saturday two other couples from our church came over (there were potentially more people, but they didn't make it). I went from worried over getting the house clean to just relaxing and having a good time with food and friends for several hours.

10. My husband having to ask me to make him a sandwich to pack for lunch. I do not have a husband who is needy. He does his own laundry, packs his lunch each night for work, makes his own breakfast and fixes our morning coffee. No, he doesn't clean or cook and you cannot trade. After he broke his arm, which was not a good thing, he was so sheepish about asking me to fix a sandwich for his lunch the next day. He hated being helpless in any way, and he might could have struggled through opening the mayonnaise jar, which I think was the big barrier, but he asked me and I was glad to be able to help. By the next night in a real cast with more finger mobility, he was back to taking care of himself, also something to enjoy.

Your turn: What brought you unexpected joy last week? Like me, you may be surprised at what all you find.