What a Difference a Dollar Makes

Last week I went to see one of my very favorite bands, Pink Martini. They were playing with the Nashville Symphony and were more fantastic than any other time I have seen them because of the concert hall. Extraordinary. Really. If you have never seen them, shame on you and change that very soon. But that's not what this is about.

Lately I've been hearing about people being shot and kidnapped downtown. It seems a bit too much for Nashville where everyone is so friendly and nice, but we have to remember it's still a city. I parked in the expensive lot right across from the concert hall.

As I was about to use the pay machine, I heard someone yelling at me and when I turned to look, it was a dirty, old, frightening-looking homeless man. "Hey lady! Girl! Excuse me, lady!!!!" He was gruff and loud and I have to admit I was frightened and tried to ignore him. He walked right up to me and proceeded to tell me that I could save $11 if I parked in the lot a block away. I was quite surprised that someone who appears to not own a car knew the prices of the parking lots in the area. He did quiet down once he had reached me so I thanked him for the advice and hoped he would just move on. He was holding a small handful of pansies and offered me one. "I carry these around to hand out to the ladies." I thanked him and chose the purplest one.

He then asked me if I could help him get a hotel. Excuse me???? "Could you help me get a hot dog?" Oh, a hot dog. Yes, of course. I don't usually carry cash but I knew I had change from earlier in the week so I gave him the $6 I had. You would think I had bought him a house. "Six dollars!!! I can go to Burger King. My sweetie and I are pretty hungry. We can both get a meal there because they're $2.89 so we can each get one. Thank you. Thank you so much."

I waited to use the pay machine while he walked away but then he turned around again. "God bless you. And you know he does. Bless you."

That encounter stayed with me all night and throughout the weekend. Who the fuck gets excited to go to Burger King? That's what I settle for when I'm starving and nothing else is close. Starving. I really don't know what it's like to starve. Not truly. Not like that man. I think he told me his name was Jeff. He had manners and shook my hand. And, stupid me, in my flustered state, I shook his hand while still holding my debit card. I don't think he could have gotten far in his state or at his age, but he didn't even touch it. He was a gentleman.

My depression has been nearly overwhelming lately. The attacks in Paris. Political posturing and daily arguments from both sides. Sex slave trading. Shootings and kidnappings. The complexities of the world are too much for me to bear most days. I cry and moan over these things while I sit inside my dry house, sipping wine and snuggling puppies. Reading books that are easily bought; I can even have them delivered to my home. Under cozy blankets. Those things do fill me with gratitude. I have the love of friends, I have a job. I am thankful for these things.

But I'm also grateful that I had a small glimpse into the life of someone without these things. I'm grateful to know that people who live with so much less have so much to offer. He gave me advice on the price of parking and offered me a cheap flower he probably picked from an empty lot, but it was more than that. It sounds trivial even trying to describe it in words, but I think what he gave me is hope. Hope that even when you have nothing, when your belly is empty and you have let your pride go far enough that you will ask a stranger to buy you a hot dog. That even then, you can be kind to someone who has so much more than you. You can use manners. You can offer help. You can change someone's night or their weekend.

I hope my friend Jeff got to go to Burger King twice that weekend. I hope his flowers were accepted graciously. I hope he had somewhere dry and warm to sleep. I hope someone hugged him and appreciated his presence.

I hope we all have reminders of how lucky we are. How we're not alone. How it's the little things that bind us together. I hope we never lose this humanity.

Saying Goodbye

It's been a long, long time coming but it's finally here. My last night in Bend.

I've been here 22 years. While I've spent the majority of that time wishing to be somewhere else, this has been my home. For better or worse. Twenty two years is a lifetime. I got married, had a baby, got divorced, I've had other important relationships, friendships. I've had jobs, said a temporary goodbye to some and permanent goodbyes to others. I moved here the day after I graduated from college so, basically, I've grown up here. Ups, downs. Happiness, heartbreak. It's hard to quantify that many experiences.

Since making final plans to leave three weeks ago, it's been the proverbial roller coaster of emotions. In one day I literally jumped up and down for joy and then broke down in tears approximately 7.8 minutes later. Last week I had the what-the-fuck-am-I-doing meltdown. As in, this is a mistake and I should stay Here because This is what I know. But what we know isn't necessarily good for us and by the time I walked into work the next morning I knew I was doing the Right Thing.

Tonight I spent time with the two people that I think I was meant to spend the Last Night with. They reminded me of the best parts about being here. The best parts are the friendships I've made. The friends that were there when I needed them. The ones who made me laugh through the tears. The ones who commiserated over The Job and kids and the deaths of relationships. The ones who made living here bearable, if not possibly worth it.

What this chapter of my life amounted to is these friendships and the lessons they've taught me. I can do the things I want to do. I have choices. I know gratitude. There is real love in my life. It didn't come in the form of Prince Charming. It arrived in these beautiful, strong, smart, funny, dependable, witty women. The friendships I least expected turned out to be the best and the most meaningful.

So, while I'm saying goodbye, I feel it's not a real goodbye. These are the relationships that will last. We'll sit outside on a summer evening once again discussing our troubles, our joys, reminiscing over the moments that brought us together. We'll profess our love over cocktails, passing down these small rites to our daughters.

People say that Bend has a lot to offer. And it does. It's spectacularly beautiful in the summer. It's a skier's paradise in the winter. You love beer? Well, this is the place. Me? I'm going to take these offerings of friendship with me. The lessons of gratitude. The moments of laughter and the acceptance of my tears.

Ladies, thank you. Because of you I have the courage to make this giant leap into the next adventure. I will carry your hearts. I will carry them in my heart. Always and forever, with gratitude and love.

Thank you. I love you.

What I'm Grateful For

I've said previously that the wife and I started keeping gratitude journals, the only rule being we couldn't duplicate what we were grateful for. Some days, the not-so-great days, it's a little bit of a stretch. Like my socks are soft or I went a day without tripping over anything.

But some days, like today, these things just fall out of the sky and land in my lap! I'm going to share my items of gratitude with you today so you can get a little Joy in your world also. These are really, really good so get ready!!

1. I love the internets. The internets are full of magical wonders that you never even could imagine. Would you have ever thought of this? It's a snail in a sweater. A snail. In a sweater, people. That's all there is to say about that. You're welcome.

If you are lucky enough to actually know a snail in your life, you can buy him/her a sweater like this one here.

2. Next are these pink boots. They're pink. They're waterproof. They just might be the boots I need for Ireland. How can I not be happy wearing these? (I'm providing the link but don't order any for yourself in size 7 until I get mine!

3. We are grateful for three things daily. This one isn't even a stretch. It's like not even having to lift a pinky because it is that awesome and wonderful. Glamping in Ireland. Glamping in a freaking treehouse. I so, so, so want to do this!!

Stay in a treehouse? Yes please. A treehouse in Ireland? DUH!! Plus the campground is called Teapot Lane. It doesn't get cuter than that. Unless I'm sitting in the treehouse and a snail wearing a tiny sweater slimes its way across my pink boots. I might pee buckets of happiness in a moment like that. That is pretty much the trifecta of happy.

See? You don't always have to be grateful for your health or your kids or the fact that you had coffee in your house or office. These are all perfectly good things to be grateful for and you should be grateful for them, I'm just saying think outside the proverbial box. Appreciate more of the things in the world around you. Create some of them and spread that happiness all over the place!!

Pros Only

Winters can be hard. Winters can be really hard as a single person. It's cold, the holidays happen, etc. It can suck.

So the Wife and I thought we'd make a list to make ourselves feel better about being single. Like a Gratitude List only for being single. The things we appreciate about being single. It was supposed to make us feel less sad, but it's had kind of the opposite effect. I don't feel less sad. I feel more happy. I feel really appreciative. At first it was just little things. But then it was just an overall feeling of, "I am really okay. Really." As in, I actually prefer this life. For now. I don't know what will come later, but I am really good right now. Without any convincing, I'm good. I'm good with me. I'm good with Now.

If you're not okay, or you need a little reminder that you are, here is a little list of some of the things we've come up with. We add to it regularly.

I can go home when I want. I have nobody to answer to.
I can flirt whenever I want with whoever I want. Everyone is fair game and so am I.
I can complain about being fat while stuffing my face with apple pizza and there isn't anybody to judge me.
My relationship with my kid is mine. Right or wrong, we will figure it out together.
The possibility still exists. I'm not stuck. Hope is good.
My future is mine. It is limitless.
The mistakes I make are mine and I only have to answer to myself.
I can set the heater at whatever temperature I want.
There is no video game talk in my house.
I can watch whatever, whenever I want on T.V.
My dogs sleep with me and I don't have to explain that.
No sports. I only watch the Kentucky Derby and the Super Bowl, and the latter for the commercials only.

If I get too cold, I have two very willing puppies to snuggle with.
Life is good.

The Story of Kelsha

The first day that I met Kelsha was also the first day that I met KY's mom and his best friend. All of the important women in his life. He said his dog didn't like many people but she immediately ambled up to me on her short little legs and greeted me with a smile.

The second time I saw Kelsha she was having leg problems and was unable to get herself around. Even in her discomfort she wasn't displeased with me. I saw her a handful of times after that when she was outside and I was walking up to the house. Always friendly, always accepting of a pat on the head or scratch behind the ear.

This is not a long story because Kelsha is in her last chapter. She's slowing down and nearing the last few pages. I've been fortunate to be able to spend this last week with her. I didn't know her as a puppy or adult, but I am getting to know her senior self.

Kelsha is wonderful. In the way that only old dogs can be. She's sweet and has mastered the art of looking adorable by laying her head just so. She gently nudges my hand when I stop petting her and tolerates being covered under a blanket. Her head smells like a little cow and so that is what I call her now. Little Cow. I have fallen in love with her.

She no longer wants to eat. She might patiently take a bite or two of what's offered, but no more than that. Her back legs betray her and she often needs help getting back up. Some days she just wants to be carried. She's covered in benign tumors which can't feel good. It takes forever for her to walk anywhere and most of the time she just wants to lie down on her bed and sleep.

KY is endlessly patient with her. If I didn't love him already, this would be the way to my heart. He's so gentle and caring in a way that I haven't seen before. I think dogs have a way of bringing out our best in ways that we can't do for each other.

I may have missed the first 13 years of her life, but I'm grateful for the time I have had to get to know her. I feel privileged that they both have allowed me to spend this time together. There is now a special piece in my heart with Kelsha's name on it and in some way I will be a better person having had this precious experience.