My sincere hope is that I bring more positive thoughts to the world than negative ones. My choice of domain name, ReallyWonderfulThings.me, reflects that impulse and intent.
Lately, however, I’m mired in a slowly unfolding crisis that looms inexorable. Here is one of those snafus inherent to life. I can’t avoid it. I can’t fix it. The best I can do for myself is to endure with a measure of grace.
For my ill loved one whose prognosis is likely death within two years, I’m also aiming to provide comfort and support to any extent that I can. I am wholly inadequate to the task.
I’ve shed plenty of tears and pitied myself because I’m human and so damnably, unrelentingly flawed. I’m already grieving a loss that hasn’t happened yet, even as I nurse the tiny flame of hope that we will defy the statistics, beating the odds and the fallibility of every living body.
Facing my fears one at a time and bringing my intellect to bear on the process is a large part of how I cope. I read studies, research long shots, and struggle with my fundamental powerlessness.
And yet! I have also experienced a shocking and rather profound blossoming of a calm state of resigned joy. I never, ever expected that.
Don’t mistake me; it’s bittersweet. I could talk about my sadness or my fear, and typing these words has already brought a fresh wash of tears. None of that surprised me, though. The joy sure as hell did.
Somehow, staring straight in the face of one of my worst fears brings with it a resolute peace as I’m forced to live in each moment, because, really, that is all that I actually have. It’s easier to savor sharing good times with someone when you know each event is precious, limited, and won’t ever come around again.
There is nothing I can do except live my life as best I can. What a relief to give myself permission to do so in the absence of guilt. How freeing to accept* what I cannot change. I never thought I had it in me.
May good fortune and robust health find you and everyone you care about.
♦
*As the serenity prayer sagely advises. One needn’t be a true believer to accept good advice. I’m pretty sure a number of gurus are preaching along the very same lines.
Time marches on, and we will go with it. If we’re lucky, we keep step. Sometimes, we’re just kicked along underfoot to arrive at the future disheveled and in a state of shock with Time’s bloody boot prints on our backs.
We nearly missed observing Night 1 altogether. There was a late remembrance of the date. Thankfully, we had birthday candles in a cupboard and made a very quick observance of first evening of Hanukkah. We did better with Night 2, even with it falling on a school night.
Like most modern Americans, we positively swim in stuff. This year, my plan for eight nights of Hanukkah festivity is to alternate a shared gift one evening with a night of family activity the next.
Yeah, my “design scheme” for our home is decidedly 
Gift number 1 and 2 was the hefty Lego Ninjago City (set 70620). As of Day 2, which follows Night 2, remember!, the 4867 piece set is not even halfway built, but that’s okay. Why rush a pleasure?
Happy Hanukkah, dear readers! May your family bask in a warm, bright glow this holiday season.
“Why, when Grandma was a child,” I intoned, “spaghetti was an ethnic Italian food that your American great-grandmother would never have made at home. Isn’t that funny, since we eat pasta and pizza every week?”
Brew Lab is in Edinburgh, Scotland, an easy walk from the tourist madness of the Royal Mile. Located near a university, its clientele seemed to consist mostly of students and…pregnant ladies.
Really Wonderful Things 