Living In The Moment

A friend told me yesterday that he'd been reading my blog, which was kinda cool because you never know if you're taking the time to think random thoughts, get them into some kind of coherent order, and then post them, only to have them bounce around in cyberspace while nobody cares. My second thought was just how long it has been since I've blogged anything at all. I have to admit that losing my dad back in October knocked me for a loop. I think we were about as ready to let him go as anybody can be, but still . . . It's been tough, y'know? When my ex-husband died, I noticed that my daughters had a hard time balancing anything against that traumatic event in their lives and making the other thing important. Put "math assignment due" on a scale next to "my dad is dead" and there's just no contest. It took a while for them to think of anything as important after he passed away. For some reason, I've been surprised to see the same thing happening to me. Slowly, but surely, we all come out of the fog, thank God. I hope it's beginning to clear a little for me. I haven't posted about the World's Most Incredible Grandbaby in a while, so let me catch you up. Miss Abigail is now all the way up to 8 pounds 10 ounces, and she is truly incredible! I am shamelessly addicted to that little girl, and thanks to her I have discovered, for the first time in my life, the wonder of living in the moment. When my own kids were little, I worried about everything. I was a single mom for most of their lives, and living on a single income in a two-income world means that you're always worrying about money. I can't even tell you what childhood diseases my kids had because (a) I'm lousy at keeping records about things like that, and (b) while we were at the doctor's office, all I could think about was how I was going to pay for the visit and medication. My poor kid would be itching or feverish or whatever, and I'd be three paychecks ahead, mentally robbing Peter to pay Paul. In fact, I've spent most of my life living three paychecks ahead, robbing poor Peter and putting Paul off using every imaginable excuse. Did living that way make me happy? Don't make me laugh! There's nothing more miserable than worrying, and I don't like the fact that I do it. In my own defense, I will say that I was taught to worry by a couple of Ace worriers. I remember my dad pacing around the house in the middle of the night, worrying about things he couldn't change anyway, and my mother doesn't just double-check to make sure the stove has been turned off, she triple- and quadruple checks, just to be sure. Even if I were to tell her that I'd turned off the oven and double-checked it, she'd still double-check my double-checking. Anyway, worrying comes naturally to me. Teaching myself not to worry so much has been a challenge, but Abigail has helped me a lot. When I'm with that baby, the only thing I want to think about is how it feels in that moment to be holding her and looking into her sweet little face. I don't want to think about what will happen when my son-in-law is reassigned to some other base somewhere else in the world and Abigail is too far away to see every week. I could think about that, but then I'd miss all the time I have her around, and I'm finally getting smart enough not to do that :) So when I'm with Abigail, I just want to enjoy the moment to the fullest. I guess it's all in the balancing again. If you put watching Abigail try to get her thumb into her mouth and the absolute joy on her face when she succeeds on the scale next to "Need to do dishes", well there's just no contest, is there? Dishes can wait.