“I Did Not Expect Those Joys to Be Ordinary to Me”

 

This morning at 6am I started awake.  We’d made a grueling 14 hour drive home from Arizona yesterday and I was so unbelievably sick that by the time we got home I was able only to quickly get the kids into bed and then collapse in a barfy heap.  The car ride home consisted of me first attempting to nap for two hours, then begging to be mercy killed and/or left on the side of the road, followed by a drugged sleep for the last two hours across all three backseats because I couldn’t handle being upright anymore.  I was the least fun traveling partner ever because I think I had food poisoning the night before.

When I woke up this morning I was in a panic knowing that the minions had to be up and ready for school, but that I hadn’t set my alarm, didn’t know where my phone was to check the time, and basically was unprepared for the morning routine.  Disoriented I reached across Hush (smashing and waking him) and found that Hush had found my phone and my charger, plugged it in and set my alarm.  I still had over an hour to sleep.  Blissful relief.

When I did finally get up I vaguely remembered that most of the kid’s stuff was still in the car and it would probably require a luggage heft and shoe hunt.

But to my surprise all of the stuff from the car was neatly arranged in the living room and ready to go – I didn’t carry in ANY of it.  I looked for the dirty laundry basket and it was already by the washing machine downstairs.

I quickly got the kids off to school on time and then went to the car to throw away the trash and take it to the carwash.  All the neighbors trashcans were on the street so I went to the backyard to take our cans out before the garbage truck came.  Our trashcans were already on the curb.

After a morning of surprises effortlessly performed by Hush the Thoughtful Savant, the trash being out on the curb stopped me in my tracks.

Trash is a big trigger of trauma for me.  When I was married to Houdini trash night was just another night of me worrying and waiting for him to appear – another way to log his last disappearance and how long he’d been gone.  One particular night I remember I was about 8 months pregnant and it was trash night.  There are few moments that take me right back to that place of worry and helplessness like the memory of dragging two weeks worth of garbage far down the street 8 months pregnant blinded by both the pouring rain and my tears of hopelessness. 

“I tend to find the ecstasy hidden in ordinary joys

because I did not expect those joys to be ordinary to me.”  -- Andrew Solomon

But today, right now, the alarms are set.  The trash is taken out.  I didn’t have to carry everything in from the car.  I’m pregnant and I am able to rest.  This is my ordinary life, now.  I think that had I married Hush when I was 22 I would have thought this thoughtful behavior sufficient and normal.  Maybe I’d even get used to it and become entitled to being treated with such care and concern.  Instead I have a history of struggle and pain and only in retrospect can I forge meaning from what felt for years like punishing chaos.   And in these moments of surprise and gratitude I appeal to the sentiments of writer Andrew Solomon, “I think that I am indebted, even to [Houdini], because all those earlier experiences were what had propelled me to this moment and I was finally unconditionally grateful for a life I’d once have done anything to change.”

And it is because of my earlier experiences, through which many of you have encouraged me or just simply observed, that I now wake up every morning surprised, grateful and humbled by my unexpected family situation.  And I record it here, lest I, for even a moment, forget.    

Highly recommend this TED talk, good luck holding back your tears!

http://www.ted.com/talks/andrew_solomon_how_the_worst_moments_in_our_lives_make_us_who_we_are