Saturday, November 30, 2013
That tiny thing is not so tiny, well she is, my little wisp of a grandma, but her presence is huge. And I am so thankful for her. At 96, when most of us have closed up shop and settled in for the LONG winter's nap, she's still out till the cows come home partying like a rock star. Seriously, she has a better social life than I do. We could all learn a thing or two from Mimi - like don't stop. Excercise so long as you've got limbs to move. You're never too old to drop a few g's on a macbook air and an iphone so don't forget how to use email, she's got it down better than some of my peers. And really, just keep living like life is fun. We'd all do better to take a little of her attitude to heart everyday. I love having her in my life. How can you go wrong with a grandma who's down for some sushi and a pedicure?
But there's more. I am, and I know it sounds over the top, but I am so beyond grateful to be alive. And to have the standard issue leg I came with. I almost didn't have either of those, and that doesn't always hit me, but then sometimes it does and I just sit still for a minute and think about not being here. It makes the tough stuff melt away for a minute or two. That's all usually, I'm no superhero. I hate the aches and pains, the struggle through rehab. Normal stuff pisses me off too - I swear in bad traffic, have been less than polite to inept front desk workers and frequently fall victim to petty jealousy, fear or anger over the mundane. But that's just life. So it's kind of awesome, when you think about it, because I get to live it and have all these petty, silly feelings, and that's a victory. Though I'm thankful there's this bigger thing that pulls me out of my everyday many times a week and gives me the kick in the pants reminder I need that the life you have isn't always the life you get to keep. I thought I'd already learned that one, but I guess I needed the first person approach. Duly noted this time.
And, yes, there's still more. Because I'm thankful for the people around me, the ones I've argued with, the ones I've married myself to in business, the ones I've been friends with for years and years, the new ones I just made, the ones I'm related or almost related to and the special one I fell in love with. Sharing my joys and fears, facing the challenge of confrontation, helping others, leaning on some, learning to communicate and work together in both business and love partnerships, it's all been rewarding, scary, awesome and a hell of an education. I am a better, stronger person than I was a year ago and that's because of you. You know who you are. I've learned that sometimes you let go and sometimes you hang on, because when you've got the right team, it might be a wild ride with ups and downs, but it's all worth it in the end.
I thought I knew what scary was. I thought I'd already been down the rabbit hole to the darkest places and come back out. I didn't realize I was still hiding in the shadows, just inside the edge of the opening. I know what scary is. I know fear. I stared down both sides of that, pardon my french, two-faced motherfucker. And I'm still here, some days hanging on better than others, but still here, and I think that's something to be proud of. A good place to put my feet in the ground and start walking forward. Yeah, it's still baby steps, once in a while a leap or two, sometimes, who am I kidding, oftentimes a tangent here or there down a side road for a bit, but I always get there somehow. I just have to remember what I've learned: that sometimes you gotta hang on, that the life you have isn't always the life you get to keep, and that really, the best thing you can do, which is a proven theory from a 96-year old, is just keep living life like it is fun. It's like a monkey on a vine, hang on and swing baby, hang on and swing.