Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Day 210: RIP Dad

I was driving home tonight after a long day of critical reading training, which is excellent stuff, but hard to be excited about with a head full of dayquil and chain sucking of cough drops.  I sat at one of those interminable lights and noticed the read window of the car in front of me said, RIP Dad in yellow window paint.

I read it once, almost like an afterthought, but then my drug addled brain caught up with what I had just read, and I looked again. I don't have to know the people in that car to know they are hurting right now. There is no story that ends with RIP Dad that isn't heartbreaking. With all the things I am struggling with daily, all of the challenges that make me feel overwhelmed, nothing I am worrying about compares to what lead to that pitiable notation on a car window.

I finally got into see a doctor and have bronchitis and ear infections and a sinus infection. I am miserable and in pain, but whenever I feel like I am at the lowest point I can reach, something reminds me to count the blessings I have. Even in my darkest moments, my blessings far outweigh my troubles. As long as the people I love are healthy and safe, even with sniffles and bronchitis, I am pretty blessed. My husband is alive and well.

Today, I remember to be grateful for that fact because someone else can't say the same thing.

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