Perspective

I am thankful for...
The shower drain that clogs sometimes because it means I have running water.
The bruise on my shin I got rushing to get to work on time because it means I have a job.
The frizz of my hair when it's humid because it means I have hair.
My parents' constant nagging about where I'm going because it means I'm loved and cared about.
The piles of dishes in the sink because it means my family is well fed.
The stress of school work, because it means I'm being educated.
My brother's loud snoring at night because it means that he's breathing.
My sore leg muscles because it means that I can run.
The lady behind me in church who sings loudly off key because it means that I can hear.
The scars on my skin because it means I have lived to tell the tale.
The freckles on my face because it means the sun is shining.
The test that I failed because it means I have room to grow.
My room that needs to be cleaned because it means I have a house.
The alarm I hear early in the morning because it means that I'm alive.

Misunderstanding Unfair

I guess I thought I'd come here to clear out my mind tonight. To sort out the thoughts I've been avoiding and built some big sturdy walls to keep the memories from flooding in. Writing just makes me feel good. Especially with no agenda or plan, just writing to write. In fact my writing has been syncing up with my running lately. Sometimes I just go on an on in any direction my thoughts take me. Sometimes without commas or capitol letters, sometimes with little breaks to catch my breath. I love that it doesn't matter. I have scratch paper filled with messy writing scattered all throughout my room and my new running shoes have some serious mileage on them already, and the best part is- it doesn't matter if the topics are off topic or if I run too fast or too slow. It's a beautiful beautiful thing. Repetition intended. You might be wondering what I could possibly thinking so hard about and usually I really don't have an answer. Life I guess. The future, sometimes. This and that. But tonight, tonight I know. Tonight is about forgetting. So life gets in the way sometimes. And it just doesn't seem fair. It never seems fair. But it is life and it does what it wants no matter what you think. While life doesn't always seem to value "fairness" it is however driven by a highly valued purpose. Maybe life is trying to make us understand the importance of the reasons rather then the unfair outcome we're dealt.
I don't regret that I day I decided to go against my voice of reason, my "better judgement" some may call it. This crappy situation I'm in at the moment is the cost of an unexpected strand of beautiful things, in which I don't regret a bit of. And a purpose. A big one. Bigger than the twinge of pain, bigger than the challenge of forcing memories down a drain that keeps burping them back up. This purpose is bigger than the "unfairness" we were dealt this round.
So, lesson learned- go with your heart. Even if it's risky, even if it may hurt somewhere down the line. The odds just may go in your favor. Maybe not. But even then, when it's scary and dark you're heart will find the purpose in the obstacles life throws in the way. Just breathe in, and breathe out.

The Knowing

It was never something we thought about. We all just knew. We knew all too well, and avoided it. For ten years we did everything in our power to prevent that dreaded thought from crossing into our field of vision. These past couple weeks, those thoughts have forced themselves in. It's funny, when I was a little kid the second she opened up her eyes in the morning was the most exciting part of my day. And like clockwork, I sat there. Everyday, with her pair of wire rimmed glasses resting in my palm, waiting anxiously. Recently, it's been the same. I sit in the chair beside her and wait for the moment she opens her eyes. And for those couple of seconds when she does, my day is infinitely better. Even if it is just a couple of seconds, which usually it is. And those couple of seconds she looks at me, I feel like she knows just as well as we do. Even at the height of the disease when her mind is almost completely gone, she knows. And for some reason, that's what saddens me the most.

Thirty Minutes

In the summertime as a kid, a half and hour seemed like forever. We would check the time, do the math, and count down the seconds until those thirty minutes were up. And man, when I tell you those tiny seconds ticked and tocked away at snails pace, I mean they seemed like eternity. We found ways to occupy the time, I Spy and hangman, but even so my strongest memories from ten years back is rushing that agonizing wait. In fact, much of my life up until now I can remember waiting and anticipating for the bigger and better things to come. And once those things came, I can remember looking toward the next thing. It's strange, we spend so much time waiting and anticipating what's to come, we forget to enjoy what's right in front of us at the moment. Nowadays, with my cousins, siblings, I and being all grownup and having jobs and busy lives to contend with, I would do anything to spend a half an hour doing nothing with them. It's funny, all of a sudden those thirty minutes our parents made us wait before getting back into the pool after lunch seem so tiny. I guess the lesson here is take time to live right now, right at this very moment. Enjoy the little things, that seem insignificant. Be thankful for this time, enjoy the wait of growing older. I mean really enjoy it. Because in ten years from now, who knows where you'll be?