My spring was pretty awful.
Our elderly cat developed a life-threatening heart condition in March. So I had to make arrangements with our cat sitter to have a slumber party with our cats while I went to a writers' conference in Massachusetts. Thinking Joey was well situated and I had nothing else to worry about for three days, I enjoyed the company of dear friends while learning all new things. Despite being a severe introvert, being at writing conferences always gives my inner word nerd great joy. Then on Saturday night, my husband called to say he wouldn't be coming to pick me up because his mom was in intensive care at a hospital in Rhode Island. An hour later my mom called to say she was in an emergency room in Michigan. So after a brief chat with our cat sitter to be sure she could spend a couple extra nights with the cats, and a morning visit to my mother-in-law in the hospital, I hopped a plane to northern Michigan. I had no idea it would be another month before my mom was well enough for me to fly home.
While I was dealing with so much. And I felt so alone. I hadn't been separated from my husband for so long since we first met. And it's a well known fact, that family dysfunction always rears its ugly when there's a medical emergency. Which never helps. As if. I became increasingly aware as I went through my daily routine of checking of items on my ever-increasing TO DO list, that the smallest and simplest things could bring me great joy. Taking the dog for a walk. Watching the cherry orchards turn white with spring blooms. Dipping my toes into a chilly Lake Michigan. Greeting the Post Master every morning when I went to pick up the mail in the small town where my mom lives. These small pleasures gave me so much joy. I realized when I returned home that I needed to continue to stop and enjoy the simplest moments. Watering the garden. Reading a book. Saying hello to my favorite check-out person at the grocery store.
A smile. A wink. A wave.
It's the smallest things in the world that matter.