One sure sign of birthday season is an absence of my blog posts filling your feeds. Every September and October, as I focus on my children and their joyous days-of-birth, I tend to wrap my attention around them, leaving less time to stop, pause, and reflect.
Does this mean that I have stopped showing kindness to others? Oh, goodness, no! But my time has been limited, thus impacting my natural ebb and flow of writing.
Since my last blog post, there have been countless acts of kindness, too many to recount and post. Nothing spectacular, no grandiose expressions of greatness, just me being me and you being you; small acts of love shared here and there.
I received two new book donations to our Tiny Tech Cafe which is so exciting! Our lending library is expanding!
I was able to pay-it-forward with a few notes to coworkers to lift their spirits and remind them that they matter to me:
Today when I arrived to work, there was a darling container of hand-picked flowers with a sweet message waiting for me:
When was the last time you received an anonymous gift that made you smile?
This small ray of sunshine was actually a perfectly-timed gift of compassion. As many of you know, my mom is walking through her journey of Stage 4 small cell lung cancer. There have been ups, downs, and moments where I swear I thought the train was derailed. This was one of those weeks. But these flowers reminded me that all things blossom in their own time and small things matter!
So today, I’m celebrating the small things.
My mom had to get a lung test today as she struggles daily to breathe and her pulmonologist needs to know what’s going on inside. Right now we are taking it day-by-day. To make my mom smile and focus on other things, I promised her a yummy lunch to celebrate her very first lung test.
We ate at Baker’s Crust and had the most attentive waiter one could hope for. We tasted samples of homemade soup, shared stories of my kiddos, and I even got her synced up with Words With Friends again (so feel free to invite her to a game!)
Then came the main meal. Oh. My. Goodness! We both agreed her Wine Country salad with Raspberry Vinaigrette was much better than my Caprese Panini.
On the way back from lunch, we talked again about her visiting my Tiny Tech Cafe. “Maybe we could go next week.”
How can we live in the moment, if we keep putting off today?
Forty-five minutes later, I was popping wheelies with my mom in a wheelchair as we made our way around campus.
(OK, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. You know if I tried to pop a wheelie with mom in a wheelchair we would BOTH end up on the ground!)
Today was a good day. My mom got to sit in the Tiny Tech Cafe!
As much joy as this brought to my soul, what actually made me happiest was hearing my mom’s laughter as she fussed at me for holding on to her wheelchair going down the ramp in our building. “Let go of the chair! I want to feel it roll!”
So I let go and my mom was free.
Her laughter echoed against the walls, her arms outstretched, bracing for impact as the wheelchair gained momentum reaching the bottom of the ramp.
For just one moment, there was no cancer, there were no worries, and everything was right with the world.
Friends, thank you for being such faithful readers. Thank you for allowing me to pour my heart into your life through my stories. Thank you for lifting me up when I can’t find the words, when my writing comes to a standstill, when my thoughts are going in a thousand different directions, but not a single complete thought is shared.
We are sharing this journey of life together and I appreciate being on the road with you.
Until next time! Be kind and #CelebrateEverything!