Everyday Miracles and The Best Medicine

I've had a really stressed out crappy day. Seems like they are like that lately. Life has been really hard,and quite frankly has worn me out. The months of triple digit weather have left me feeling depleted, physically, spiritually, and financially. After catching up the electric and gas bills,buying some groceries, getting my sons prescriptions filled, I am left with 86 cents in the bank and the low fuel light is on in my car. It is the 15th of the month, how is that supposed to work?

But, in the midst of all that, I am reminded that I am indeed blessed. I was able to catch up the electric bill, which was twice what I had budgeted the last few months because of those triple digit temps, because of a small miracle. I was sitting in my meditation spot, talking to Creator, wondering how to pay the bill.Nothing came to mind, I finished my meditations. Grabbed a cup of coffee and logged on the computer. There I was reading my facebook feed and I got a message from a friend. Check my paypal account. This friend had felt like I needed to be blessed. There was the money for to catch up the electric bill. Now I use the word friend, but this is someone who I have never met in person, someone I met in a community on the computer.Amazing. Even though we are not of the same religion, we both had our faith reinforced that day. I was reminded that in the midst of my stressed out crappy life Spirit still hears me and she was reminded that in the midst of some spiritual questioning she still hears Spirit.

A few days later, in another cyber community, I asked my friends to say extra prayers for me. That's all, I didn't share the need, I just asked for prayers, because being broke this summer because of the heat and everything costing too much is just not conducive to me climbing out of the depression I have been struggling with. But, one of the needs was the gas bill. Granted, I don't need the gas for heat, but hot water is a good thing.Later that day, I got a message from another friend-this one I have met personally, but we originally met online-again the message was to check my paypal account. There was the money to pay the gas bill and get some groceries.

So, I know that Spirit is aware of me, and that I have friends who hear Spirit. Those seem really rather miraculous to me these days.Depression is a terrible disease, one that take's a lot of my energy to deal with,and I just haven't had the extra energy lately. But, even though it feels like my steps forward can be measured in centimeters, I do think I am starting to move forward a bit,and as I am often heard to say...every step you take is a step away from where you used to be. Now it may only be a centimeter away, but it is away. So, here I am, struggling,and today just throws everything it can at me. That stupid low fuel light came on when we went to the library, and then we got home and on the hottest day of the week my electricity goes out. Now my first response was to panic. I opened the front door, and the stairwell light in our building was still on. Because while I had caught up, the next bill has arrived,and my anxious mind immediately thought they had turned my electricity off. Just then, the apartment door across the hall opened,and their electricity was off too. So, the neighbor heads down to the basement of the building and it turns out it was the circuit breakers for the ground floor apartments.  So, one more crisis averted.

Of course, my panic reflex had already kicked on, and so it has been a long afternoon. My pain level went up and I got a headache. Stress will do that, its the adrenaline I think. That's when the Best Medicine showed up. My son checked out a DVD at the library,and put it in the player. It is a DVD of all of the Tom and Jerry cartoons ever made, and so for the last hour my house has been filled with the most beautiful sound in the whole world, my son's laughter. Tom and Jerry cartoons are his type of humor, and his laughter seems to come from his toes,and fill his whole body-and he is 6' 7" tall, so that is a BIG laugh. A beautiful, musical laugh that makes me smile. It's been a while since I smiled,and today, after the stress, after the worries, I have been smiling for over an hour.

So, while I still have problems,and while I still have depression, I have managed to take a step away, a step filled with smiles, and that seems to me to be the very best thing in a long time. Just a few everyday miracles and laughter, the best of medicines. Spirit seems to be hearing me, don't you think?

Social skills?

Our neighborhood had it's fall picnic over the weekend. Unlike the weekend before, the weather was perfect, and the turnout was good! My son went with me for the very first time. He used his best social skills, shook hands with the people I introduced him to, enjoyed the hamburgers and hot dogs, stayed much longer than I thought he would, and chose to leave when he felt uncomfortable. I was very, very proud of him. His social skills get better all of the time.

This story isn't about my 26 year old autistic child, however. This story is about neighbors.Like  the 2 year old I met at the picnic. His behaviors were the spitting image of my son at that age. He was a beautiful little boy, the MOST interesting grey eyes, and to this MOM, exhibited many characteristics of autism. His parents had their hands full keeping up with him!

I attempted to open conversation with his parents a couple of times. After all, if he is indeed autistic, I have a lot of experience. I could offer support and encouragement. But, they are fairly new to the neighborhood, and seemed a bit wary. Now that may or may not have anything to do with their son, who may or may not be autistic. It could have just been the nerves of meeting all of us old folks, many for the first time.

Our neighborhood is a throwback to a different time. The 100 homes in our subdivision are inhabited by mostly older folks who have lived together for decades, raised families together, become family for many. I can remember the address of the Southern California house I grew up in, if pressed I might be able to figure out the addresses of the rest of the houses on our street. But in my mind, and my memories they will always be remembered by the names of the families that were living there. Our house was the Jones house, William E to be specific, and we had to be because directly across the street was the William H Jones family-no relation. There were 6 original families, families who built their homes themselves, upgrading over the years. Then in the late 1950's a new subdivision replaced the fields across the street creating a new neighborhood. A very interesting neighborhood, a mix of ethnicity's and family styles moved into the really nice 3 bedroom houses-2 floor plans available-that were affordable for working class families.

The homes were built on the same floor plans, but every house had it's own color and landscaping as the families made them their own. As we children grew up together we knew all of the houses by the names of the families. We knew that we were safe on our way to school as we walked past the Bartletts, the Martinez, eventually past the Bachelor's house. As an adult I know that the bachelors were a same sex couple. As a child, they were just the Bachelors, a very important part of our community. They were always there to lend a helping hand when needed.

I thought about the Bachelors today. I was reading some really hate-filled comments on facebook, and I felt so blessed that I grew up in a diverse neighborhood. A neighborhood where you were not judged by anything other than your being part of our lives. I don't know when it dawned on me that the Bachelors were a 'same sex' couple, because it just didn't matter. What mattered was that they were neighbors. Good neighbors. It can be so easy to get jaded in this day and age, but then I think about our neighborhood and the neighborhood I grew up in. When I see people saying ugly things, I need to remember that there are places in the world where you can grow up to believe that all people are just your neighbors and it doesn't really matter whether you have much in common with them other than the most important thing, they are part of the weft and weave that makes up the tapestry of your life. Just like this neighborhood has been for my unique son, and hopefully will be for the little guy with the grey eyes.

Cynicism

You know it is so easy to become cynical these days. Turn on the TV, check your newsfeed on Facebook, read a message board. Everywhere you look people seemed to have become mean, hateful, lacking the simple human qualities of compassion and kindness. It honestly doesn't matter what your political, or religious beliefs are you can find examples of people who just seem to have forgotten how to behave towards other people. If you are in a difficult situation yourself, it starts to feel rather personal. It starts to feel as if you just have no right to exist if you are down on your luck.

I think it is to easy to say ugly things about other human beings when you are anonymous. I think that if we turn off the TV, get off the computer and encounter one another face to face, most behave differently. Yes, a few will still be hateful uncaring monsters-quick to demean or ridicule anyone they see as different. These are just all around miserable people and it must be hard to be that unhappy. But most people are not that miserable. Most people will speak kindly even to a stranger.

While vacationing last week we met so many nice people. People who were truly happy to have us in their home town, or visiting their area. As I worked my way through doorways, or up a step or two with my cane or my walker, there was always someone rushing to hold a door, or offer a helping hand. I tend to want to let others go through the doorway before me, offering the caveat that I am slow, and no one ever takes me up on it.

It seems to me we need to get out and meet each other. It seems all to easy, no matter where your belief lies on the spectrum to demonize those who are different than you.Personally, i have never understood bigotry and hate, and it seems to be growing stronger. It seems like it is all too easy to think that the problems are all the fault of the 'others'. But when the 'other' is someone we are face to face with we are able to see that we are all fighting some battle, and we aren't all that different. Those folks, young, old, male, female who held a door for me, or waited to get to their seat while the lady with the walker made her way slowly ahead of them had no way of knowing whether I am a liberal or conservative, a Christian or a Muslim or a pagan, or any thing in between. All they saw was a middle aged woman with mobility issues, and they were happy to offer assistance or a bit of encouragement.

It is so easy to fall into cynical thinking, I have thought many times recently that there are those who would gladly let me die by the side of the road because I am no longer a productive member of society. And there may be a couple of those out there, but for the most part this country is full of good people, people who will offer a helping hand no matter who you are or what you look like.For the most part this country is full of friends we have yet to meet. And even those who say the most hateful hurtful things under a cloak of  anonymity, will usually think that their friends or family are not who they are railing against.

So we need to get out of the house, out of our neighborhood or comfort zone and meet each other. Maybe then we will remember that we are all human, and all deserving of a bit of help now and then.We have to remember to be kind, even to those miserable ones, because truly we never know what battles the other person is fighting,and our smile or kind word may remind even them that they are human.If it doesn't, we must truly feel sorry for them, because it certainly can't be easy to be that unhappy.But, we must not let the hate we see and feel rub off on us, we must fight the cynical tooth and nail, but we must fight it with kindness and caring, and that is what I found out there in our country. Nice people, they really do exist!

Fourth of July

I am not a very patriotic person. Yes, I pray for our military, and I love to read history books. But I am just not one to get all worked up over a flag waving holiday. My late husband, on the other hand was a Marine, who loved the 4th of July!! We really did balance and complete each other! I tend to think of him often on these flag waving days because of the flags flying in our subdivision. Our subdivision has approximately 100 homes. It has been a close knit neighborhood since the late 1930's early 1940's.My home is over 75 years old.

This neighborhood welcomes new families from the moment you turn into it's streets. Mr. Bill was so happy here. He soon noticed that on every holiday, flags flew, and it did not take him long to become part of the team that put them up and took them down. I Think every utility pole in the neighborhood gets a flag. Which means that there is a flag in front of most houses.

I usually sit on my deck, but for some reason this morning, I was sitting in my wheelchair on my front porch as the flags were being placed. The guys all waved at me, and I was pleased to watch them place the flags. They still miss Mr. Bill I am told!

That is the flag in front of my house!




 It was a beautiful morning this morning and I took a couple of pictures in my yard...

This is my ramp and that bush needs trimmed!

My sedum is blooming...

As well as my shastas and daylillies...


I had a lovely morning, even though I am using my wheelchair today instead of my cane or walker. Just one of those days!! I don't have anything profound to share, just a slice of my life today. Thanks for stopping by! I totally appreciate it when you do!!!

Blessings,
EstherBelle

Neighbors

"The truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it." ~~Norman Schwarzkopf

So this afternoon I was on the phone with my cousin. She was telling me, among other things, that one of her neighbors had stopped by with his tractor and plowed the snow from her driveway the other day. This was a great blessing for her, as her husband had major heart attack not that long ago, and he is no longer physically able to do things like shoveling snow.

So, I get off the phone and go into the kitchen, look out the window, and while I was on the phone with my cousin one of my neighbors had plowed my driveway. I am not sure which neighbor, but I have a good idea. The truth of the matter is, I live in a good neighborhood. When my husband was killed by a drunk driver there were still a couple  months left in the mowing season. So, the able bodied men in my neighborhood took turns mowing my grass for the next 7 or 8 weeks.

Doing the right thing. Some people just naturally do the right thing, they don't even have to think about it, it is just the way they live. Some people mean to do the right thing and never get around to it. Some people know what the right thing is but choose to ignore it. It really does all come down to making choices.

The neighbors who plowed my cousin's driveway and my driveway did not have to take the time out of their day to help a neighbor. My neighbors are aware that I am a physically disabled widow raising a developmentally disabled child. My cousin's neighbor did not know her husband was unable to shovel snow, he just saw someone shoveling their driveway and stopped to help.In fact, he was out with his tractor for the purpose of helping neighbors.

We get cynical sometimes. The news, the internet, social media are all filled with stories about bad things happening to good people. We rarely see stories about good people helping good people. I know I need to choose to see the good things more often. There are so many issues in my life right now. Medical problems, serious financial problems, my weight loss struggles,  and grief try to take my eyes off of the right things. But then a neighbor plows a driveway, and I am reminded that doing the right thing doesn't take long, it just take choosing to do it.A choice that good neighbors make regularly. Not hard at all.