What I'm thinking about today

I don't think it's possible for me to be unhappy. There are parts of my life that are frustrating. Sometimes I feel hopeless. I've been sad before. But even when I was on suicide watch at the hospital, even when I felt that dying was the only solution for my life, my soul felt moments of joy. A friend was one of the med-techs in the psyche ward. That made me feel happy. Darrin brought me my down comforter and pillow and cuddled with me in the wretched room with its picture window, while the staff watched--that made me happy. One of the nurses was very pretty--again, happy. I realize that the past four months have been challenging and filled with defeat and much sadness. But in the midst of everything, I can't seem to avoid finding the things that make me laugh and feel alive.

DJ says this is one of the reasons why he loves me. He says when he's feeling down, even if it's for a really good reason, he knows if we spend time together his feelings level out and he starts to feel lighter. This is a win/win situation because I love being with that boy.

Adam had a birthday last week. As tradition demands, we went to buy flowers together. His choice, as usual, was a dozen roses--dark orange this year. Then we shopped for his birthday dinner and he helped me prepare it. Tolkien Boy said that in his family that was called "doing chores". In our family it's a special time with just the birthday person and me, and we have so much fun together. I suppose everything in life is about perspective.

Yesterday, Sister 5 sent me a letter. She's not Sister 5 because she's the youngest, but because she came to our family last. Her birthday is the month after mine and we're the same age. I found her when I was eleven. She had moved in with an ailing grandmother because her parents were alcoholics, unable to care for her. She rarely smiled or spoke. I smiled and spoke for both of us. She was defensive and shy. I decided I loved her. She was lonely. I took her home and asked my mom if she could stay. Eventually, she became a part of our family. We adored her. She was sweet and kind. She was a peacemaker who loved to play pranks and giggle. Her sense of humor is unmatched by anyone else in my life. We were the best of friends.

The year my cousin molested me, Sister 5 was living with us. The following year she went to live with an aunt, where she stayed for the rest of her teen years. She visited us often, but I was unable to be the same kind of friend I had once been. I spent most of my time surviving. Eventually, we drifted apart. Even now I have difficulty allowing closeness between us. I believe that part of this is because I didn't think I could confide in her the things that had happened to me while she slept in a bed ten feet away.

While on our Christmas vacation, I finally found myself in a position where I could talk about that summer with Sister 5. I saw the shock on her face. She quickly recovered and changed the subject. A victim of abuse, herself, the reaction didn't surprise me. I decided now that she knew, we could talk about my resulting self-isolation at another time, and eventually, maybe she'd understand that I never stopped loving her, I just couldn't cope with everything life was sending me at once.

So--yesterday I received her letter. It was in a card with beautiful flowers on the front--she has always remembered how I feel about flowers.

Dear Sam,
Thank you for sharing your family with me. I hope you understand what you've done for me. You are the person who put me on the right track. At such a young age you introduced me to love--the true meaning of it--and to real families and friendship. And you helped me learn about the Savior in a way no one else had. You are a priceless person in my eyes.

I felt so saddened when you shared the grief and pain you went through that summer. How blind I was that I couldn't help you. You have always loved, never judged me.

Sam, it seems that no matter what life deals you, you find a way to be happy. I have wished to be like you (without the trials, of course). Someday, maybe you'll share your secret with me.

I love you, Sis!
Sister 5

Perhaps what she doesn't realize is that she is an inspiration to me. I watched as she nursed the parents who abandoned, abused and neglected her, on their deathbeds. With compassion, she held her father's cigarette for him when he was unable to do so himself--no words of remonstration for the habit that helped to take his life--only concerned that in his last days of life he be comfortable and feel cared for. When my grandmother was in the hospital, dying of cancer, Sister 5 visited her every day. The biological grandchildren lived hundreds of miles away and were unable to do so. Sister 5 gently made certain that Grandma had all that she needed, loved her, and reported back to those of us who wished we could be there in person. Sister 5 is one of the best mothers I know, raising three beautiful children. She's a better homemaker than I will ever be. When I'm with her I feel as though a missing piece of my life just fell into place. She makes me happy.

Tolkien Boy told me last night (and I'm paraphrasing) that it was good for me to recognize that I need people in my life. He's right. Although, just for the record, it's my nature to only write about the people I love when they're right--I don't usually spread it around when I think they're wrong about something. Just thought I'd mention that in case you get the skewed idea from my blog that TB is some paragon of correctness. He's human...

Anyway, those are my thoughts today. And in case there wasn't enough disjointed rambling in the contents written here, I'll probably be writing again someday. It seems to be something I do often.