Little things in life

I have reached the stage in my life when I really do appreciate the little things in life. There are so many of them that it is hard to know where to start. Just looking in the obituaries in the paper and not finding my name is a real treat. It is sad when I start to know more and more of those names. Waking up and realizing that hey, I can actually move all my muscles at once and none of them creak (at least very much) is really cool. Pure joy comes from knowing that my children are happy, healthy and productive members of society in spite of them having a slightly unstable mother for the majority of their lives. Happiness mixed with a touch of sadness is a visit with my parents on a day that my mom is more like her old self and less like the person who is lost in an Alzheimer’s induced fog. A clean house which includes a bed with freshly laundered sheets and a place for everything and everything in its place so in case I die suddenly, my children or parents will not have to be embarrassed when company comes. Paying for the meal of the car behind me at MacDonald’s or the toll for the car behind me bring me happiness. Being able to spend a day in my kitchen baking-just because, the scent of candles or Snuggling up to my brand new great-nephew is pure, unadulterated happiness. Getting a call from my little nieces because they cannot wait until I finish my class this summer so we can have our traditional summer tea party. My daddy telling me he is proud of me. Discovering something really cool and sharing it with someone who really does want to know what new thing I have learned. Having my niece spend the night with me-even though she hogs the bed-and hearing her say “Aunt Susie, this bed is sure not for getting out of quick…it feels too good.” Seeing an event that I have spent hours planning for go off without a hitch. Hearing someone ask me “are you Jim Cattell’s daughter… I love that man” and being able to say Yep, I am. Knowing that I am 50 pounds lighter now than I was a year ago and that exercise is no longer a dirty word to me. Realizing I can actually survive traumatic events without losing who I am. Having my daughter call me and tell me I was right about something I had told her years ago and realizing that she really had listened to me. Seeing my son step off a plane safe and sound after risking his life for a year in the defense of our country and knowing that I am the first person he is searching for in a crowd. Sitting next to someone I love. Reading my son’s comment on Facebook about how much he loves his mom and is proud of her and knowing he is not afraid if millions of people read that. Knowing that I have everything I need because I have 55 years worth of little things that make me happy.