Watch Out for Flying Tupperware

This is my cautious mantra for 2012. I have several. But I think this sums it all up nicely and puts a little pink bow on it.

I've been trying to keep up with life lately and just when I think, 'Hey, things aren't going too bad here...' Whammo. Just like that, reality hits you in the face. Stress and grief is sneaky that way. La-la-la - SMACK! Tears. Emotion. Not again. What the H!?

Kind of like a flying plastic flour sifter winged with amazing accuracy by your 20 month old. Man, that kid has an arm. Baseball is in this one's future for sure. However, we're going to start by getting his eyes checked because I am certain he did not mean to throw that piece of Tupperware and hit his mama square in the cheekbone... and then make a funny squiggly scrunchy face in jest while I stumbled to my feet for some ice. I prefer to believe that he was just mimicking my expression of pain. I've got to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. He is just too cute and cuddly. But ouch, damn it. That's what I wanted to say but our little Rowan is quite the conversationalist lately and I am also quite certain that he would have incorporated that phrase into his vocabulary immediately.

Why do I even have a plastic flour sifter in my home in the first place is what many who know me may be wondering right now. Because many know that I don't bake much anymore. Well... I have a plastic flour sifter, and a bundt cake pan and other lovely kitchen accessories because my dad's mom, 'Gramma Sally' as my sister and cousins and I have called her since, well...  forever, is the perpetual giver of good, useful things. It all started when I, the eldest of the grandchildren was on my way to college. Anytime gramma stopped by to visit, she had with her a bag of goodies. I remember thinking at the time - I am a college freshman. I don't even know when I'll eat, let alone use pot holders. But, gramma told me that one day Iwould need them, you just never know. And low and behold I left the Ramen Noodles cooking too long in the microwave and the bowl got sizzling hot and my singular dish towel was dirty, but aha! I have a pot holder, somewhere. And there it was. See, I was smart enough to always take all those extra tools, utensils, cookware and etc... with me from dorm to apartment to first home because I never knew when I was going to need them most.
I had been thinking about an old friend over the weekend. She was due to have her baby in February and I hadn't heard anything and wondered if she heard about my dad. See we were very close in high school and she visited our house quite a bit. She admits now it was because my dad was a hottie. Well, duh. So the day after I had been thinking about her, wouldn't you know it, on the turnpike, my phone rings and it's her. Isn't life so cra-cra? Turns out she had a wild few months herself and we were both perfectly ok with the lapse in conversation because we also both know that since we reunited our friendship (after a 10 year hiatus) about two years ago, that we can pick up the phone and pick up right where we left off. And we did. And she made me laugh like I haven't laughed in a long time. And that felt really good. Like getting a new bag of goodies from 'gramma' good.

I've been doing a lot of reading about grief and healing and the constant presence of spiritual support if you just allow yourself to believe. I want to thank all of the pot holders and bundt cake pans and flour sifters in my life for being there over the last five months that have shown me the greatest depths of family, friendship  and faith. And even though we may not have not been walking the same paths at the same time, each and every one of you has a place in my life and me in yours. Sometimes it takes a harsh dose of reality to remind you what a support system you have.

You've gotten me through. You've been there. And I thank you from the bottom of my little white and orange crocheted heart.