“What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others.” – Confucius

1. “A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.”
   – Walter Winchell

I've recently been seeing a post on social media.  It's a quote saying something along the lines of wishing parents cared more about if their children are kind to other kids, sitting with the kid who is sitting alone at lunch I think it said, than if they are in gifted classes.  I couldn't agree more with that sentiment.  I remember one little boy on our street that used to tease my daughter and make her cry because "he was gifted" and "she wasn't".  My common response to that is there is no such thing as gifted in high school.  It's an equal playing field there, so who cares?  But it got me thinking.  Do parents really care?  Do they want to know when their kids are being like that??

I watched as my 14 year old nearly got excluded, about 1 hour before their first high school football game as freshman last Friday, because there was only room for so many in this girls' opinion and someone needed to be left out.  My daughter was the lucky one she chose.  If this did happen? I was actually going to call the mom, because you know, I would want to know if my daughter was doing this, so she might actually too.  I like her daughter a lot because she is usually very kind and inclusive. Thankfully she called my daughter and apologized and decided to include everyone, I am glad to say everyone had a great time.

“If you make friends with yourself you will never be alone.”– Maxwell Maltz

But the thought of my child being excluded tore into the very fiber of my being.  It got me thinking again,  when do you forget and heal from such an ordeal?  It was so difficult for me to handle when everything happened with my youngest daughter and her former friend group last year because I realized so much of the pain I was feeling was my own.  My own from way back in St. Hyacinth's. When, for whatever reason, two of us were chosen to be ostracized by our female friends. I remember the lonely bus rides, I remember lunch being a nightmare.  I was with the same 30 or so kids so there was really no where to branch out and find new friends.  I wonder if it's anything that the girls who did this to us think about.  When I think about it, it can still make my throat tighten.  It was the loneliest feeling in the world.  Do these girls think about what they did and think, "hell yeah, we made those two girls miserable.  We made them hate waking up and going to school!  We are awesome!"  I mean seriously what goes on in their minds?  Thankfully our Nun was pretty savvy, caught on to what the girls were doing to us and made us all have a sit down and make amends.  But I just remember crying and crying during it, my head on my desk, relieved it would finally be over. Sad that I was hated by my former friends.

“To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."– Brandi Snyder

I got through high school fairly unscathed.  Sure there were groups of people I wished truly liked me. Ones I so desperately tried to fit in with. The ones that used me for my car or my pool, that would make fun of me when they thought I didn't realize it.  Or soap my car with horrible sayings after I was finally done putting up with them.  I remember sobbing, because my father found my car covered in horrible things, horrible things that were said about me and he was sad someone would say something like that about his little girl.  I was embarrassed as my neighbors watched as I scrubbed away their literary masterpiece on my old blue Monte Carlo.  I do feel I should mention I did meet a couple of wonderful people going into my junior year that I still call best friend to this day.  But for the most part, I made it through high school looking forward to college.

Let's skip to my senior year in college and unfortunately I was on the receiving end of another "let's exclude Danielle" campaign.  I guess some guy got my suite mates and sorority sisters believing I was saying some pretty awful things about them.  I couldn't understand the cold shoulder I was getting until I asked one of the girls I lived with.  She countered with she couldn't be friends with a back stabbing bitch like me.  I was floored.  I guess when this guy who wished he was in our sorority spouted off all of his crap about people it was okay, because I stupidly kept his confidence.  But for whatever reason this time, he unleashed his fury on me, and once again I was sitting outside looking in.  I graduated without a friend pretty much.  Once again, ok because I met the man of my dreams and knew I would be with him right after I graduated, so really those people mattered not much in the grand scheme of things.  Brad was my world, he still is :)

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”— Oprah Winfrey

So it got me thinking yet again, what is it like for you people?  The transgressors who make other's lives miserable for whatever reason?  My husband seems to think it's because these people are insecure with themselves.  They need to boost themselves at other's expenses.  Did you get off on seeing how awful you make people feel?  Do you even remember what you did?  Because those of us who suffered at your insecure hands still do.

Then another thought crossed my mind, what happens if it happens to YOUR child?  If someone decides it's time to ostracize your kid?  Make their lives miserable.  Can you honestly be empathetic? Can you look at them and be genuinely sorry for their pain knowing at one point in your life you did the same thing to someone else?  When my best friend and I were talking this weekend she told me how her oldest daughter's friend group decided they didn't like Emma anymore just a month or so outside of graduation. The pain I felt for my friend's daughter was real.  Like someone punched me in the stomach.  How I wanted to go find these nasty girls and give them what they deserved for being so ugly and hurtful.  It honestly broke my heart in two.  This is a brilliant girl, a great athlete, so pretty she could be carved in a cameo is how I describe her to others, and yep, some insecure butt heads decided to try and take her down a few pegs because they probably aren't nearly as successful. But words like mine do precious little to heal a person when they are living through stuff like that. Thankfully my non blooded niece is happily attending Northeastern in Boston now, making her way through college beautifully so far, where she has access to Mike's cannoli whenever she wants them. Kind of like a little slice of heaven after dealing with the hell she had to endure.

I guess that's what I need to get past all of these feelings.  My very own Mike's Cannoli shop. If it were that simple, I'd be a millionaire.  Able to solve hurt feelings, one cannoli at a time.

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.”– Muhammad Ali

Mmmm, spit flavored hummus, my favorite

That came from a dream my husband had, or rather a comment I made about it.  He dreamt we were at this food buffet where they served you.  I am on this ultra-restrictive diet and cannot eat anything in real life, but in his dream I was on this diet too.  Sounds more like a nightmare lol.  Anyway, I was walking down his dreamy food line saying what I typically say in real life, I can't eat that, I can't eat that, I can't eat that....Until we happened on the hummus in his dream, where I said I can eat that (which in real life I can't so the irony is real) and as the dream man went to serve me he licked the spoon, then scooped out some hummus on my plate.  Dream Brad tried to warn me not to eat it.  That the guy licked the spoon but Dream Danielle got nasty and said, "I can't eat anything else! I'm eating it." Great dream right hahaha!?  I got some spit flavored hummus.

I kind of feel like that's what my life is dealing me lately.  Eat this spit flavored hummus and like it. You don't have a choice.  It's your only option.  I have been having some things happening with my health that have been concerning, and this diet has been helping me some, so I am sticking to it. But my life is dealing me spit flavored hummus and it sucks.

I noticed something was going slightly awry at my Godson's wedding back in July.  We were in Central Park, dressed all sorts of fancy.  Found this dress that I absolutely had to have.  I was in love with the simplicity and elegance.  But skirting was heavy, and the black jersey material top didn't breathe very well.  It had just stormed because of the suffocating heat, the humidity was unreal and I was sweating. Profusely. All huge no-nos in the adventure land of MS. 

When they finally called us in to the ceremony, after standing outside for over an hour socializing with my family, I remember walking.  Or trying to rather.  Thankfully my brother was standing in front of me.  He and Brad were chatting as we turned to walk inside. I was talking to my sister in law. I started leaning into Rick's back.  It felt like I was walking on the side of my left foot.  I felt like I was going to fall. I stupidly told my sister in law my shoe was bothering me.  That's what I thought was going on.  As everyone started to move faster I realized my leg wasn't working the way it was supposed to. I frantically reached over and grabbed Brad's arm, my throat getting tight, I was close to tears.  I was honestly scared.  I tried to remain calm, and Brad, ever my savior, smoothly maneuvered my non-walking legs out of the crowd's way as I started rambling that things weren't right.  He managed to get me into the air conditioning with a minimum of fan fare and seated me with my family who all promptly asked what was wrong.  I had to explain my left leg acted up due to the heat. The AC was a blessing.  As I started to cool off, everything started feeling alright again.  First time since being diagnosed 23 years ago, that I had to blame MS for me not being able to function.  I don't like the feeling of not being in control of things in my own body.  I hated the attention it drew from all well meaning family members.  I down played everything.  Said I was absolutely fine.  But sat at our "kids" table as I affectionately dubbed it, because it was all of the cousins that had to sit at the kids table during Thanksgiving at Nan's house once upon a time, and I tried not to move around much.  I did try to slow dance once with Brad, but things didn't work out so well. It was a vvveeerrryyyy slow dance, more like rocking side to side.  We went back to our seats so I could drink more water, which I found myself wishing actually had ice so it would help me cool down faster, but it wasn't helping. We wound up leaving the wedding early.  I needed to get out of that dress and completely cooled off.  I knew I would be fine in our hotel room, and I started feeling more myself once I was in my pj shorts and a tank top..

Things have gotten better.  With the help of this anti-inflammatory diet, plus learning good stress management and getting sufficient sleep, I feel better.  Everyday stuff is fine, even in the blast furnace that Virginia became the last part of the summer.  I have stayed inside for the most part. Transitioning from inside to outside is something I do my best to avoid.  

I haven't been Crossfitting hard and heavy like I used to love to.  When I do?  That whole left leg feeling funny thing and acting weird happens.  Scares the hell out of me, so I do my best to avoid it, especially in public.  I work out in my garage because if I fall there? It's like a tree falling in the woods without a witness.  Did it really happen hahaha??  At least I am working out still I tell myself. Certain lifts are still at a decent weight, but anything to do with squatting or my legs?  I go pretty light, and just do my best.  Add to it I have arthritis in my right knee and well, squatting just isn't going to happen the way I want it to.  

Most days I feel like I am fighting gravity.  Kind of like that old commercial for V-8 in the 80's where the people are all walking at a diagonal.  Or my legs feel heavy and it takes awhile before I feel like they are underneath me.  

I was just at the Granite Games as my husband's official cheering section.  Health, vitality and fitness ubiquitously filled the air.  I was jealous, truly sad that I wasn't one of those healthy people.  I noticed this younger woman being pushed around in a wheel chair by her obvious boyfriend or husband.  Big burly guy, Crossfitter's beard, you knew he was competing.  She was in her mid to late twenties if I were a guessing woman.  So young to be sitting in a wheelchair and I wondered what her story was. Then I saw it, the Orange ribbon, the MS ribbon tattooed on the back of her husband or boyfriend's leg.  I never did work up the nerve to ask if she had it.  I figured if she did, she was feeling like I was. All out of place around these insanely fit people. 

I stopped my pity party then though.  I told myself at least I was walking, racing around actually, to some of the events to watch my husband compete.  At least I had control still.  And I am doing everything in my power to keep the health I have now.  Trying to heal some of what's going on by eating this non-inflammatory diet.  I am thinking it's time to find a neurologist though.  Just going to a family practitioner isn't enough I don't think.

I sit and wistfully think of all of my beautiful heels in my closet some days.  No, I'm not crazy.  I love my shoes and I don't know that I will ever be sashaying around in them again.  So many pairs, each my favorite for one reason or the other.  They look sad sitting in their boxes, waiting for me to put them on and show them off again.  Hopefully someday I will again.

And there's that dress, the dress I HAD to have.  The dress that started my issues.  I am giving it a second chance at my best friend's upcoming nuptials.  It's not it's fault that the leg thing happened. I still love that dress and am hoping for a better time in it.  Only this time, no beautiful heels.  I will be wearing these instead

Presents Revisited

I know I've posted about receiving gifts before.  But I recently received two gifts that were so awesome I had to share them with you.

So it was my birthday on the 22nd of April.  I got loads of nice gifts from friends and family.  One of my daughters made me a gift and put it on my pillow so I would see it last thing my birthday night. Lo and behold, it fell off the pillow sometime between when she put it there and I got into my bed. She waited well over a week before she asked in a rather small voice after I had just brought her in from school, "um, Madre, did you like my gift to you?" I was a little taken aback I have to say. I didn't remember what she had gotten me, so there goes the internal struggle. Do I admit I have no idea what her gift was and risk hurting her, or do I gush and try and bluff that it was just perfect? I took the honest route and apologized profusely for not remembering her gift.  That's when she told me she put it on my pillow.  I remember vividly nothing there that night.  I took off up to my room to find said gift.  And I did, it had fallen down along the side of my bed and was between my night stand and the bed.  It's funny how something as simple as what she gave me could turn into one of the most memorable gifts I have received in, well, recent memory.  It had tears rolling down my face by the time I was done.  How something so simple could have such impact, well I was truly moved

46 Reasons why being 46 is pretty ok and an art journal page made just for me.

I will keep and cherish this forever.  Wow is all I can say.

The next awesome gift came from a friend from college.  Actually we went to school together and never really met each other.  We have mutual friends, met on FB and realized we had a bunch in common.  Like we're crazy Italian mothers, like we LOVE all things hockey, like we're both totally awesome and the world needs to watch out for us hahaha!!  

Anyway, my friend recently found out I had MS, she and her two lovely daughters are doing the MS walk.  I didn't know it until I received this picture on my timeline on FB

Can you say blown away???  This fine family chose to walk in my honor at this MS walk.  They haven't even met me, and yet they chose to champion my cause.  Once again, a gift without a package, wrapping paper or a bow, but yet, in the same breath, the most beautiful gift to receive.  I am truly humbled and blown away.  My friend explained she's trying to raise her girls with compassion, teach them to be kind to others, definitely a dying way of parenting in this world we live in, teach them to live right.  MA, you have already accomplished your goal.

Yep, presents, gotta love them. These presents I have received cost nothing, but have rewarded me so richly.  Was it the Beatles that sang, "the best things in life are free....?" I am going to have to say I couldn't agree more.

Sipping From Your Cup 'til it Runneth over...Holy Grail

It's just a mug I put down in front of my overly stressed out 16 year old daughter.  A mug full of cocoa and marshmallows.  It's just a mug I thought as she hugged me and finally smiled through her tears. But it wasn't really. I had chosen this mug specifically.  She saw exactly what that mug meant to me and knew I chose it just to make her feel better.

The mug I speak of was given to me by my best friend when I was moving away from home.  I was the first of our little group to move after college.  The first to fly the Glen Cove coup as it were, and move out to Chicago to be with my fiance.  When I was in the airport, getting ready to board my plane and heading towards my new life, Caramia gave me this

I have had this mug for over 27 years now.  It is so faded and beat up.  But it says "Don't Forget" on the outside and on the inside, it says "I love you".

My daughter asked me if I chose this mug on purpose, and I nodded yes.  The sentiment it was meant to convey was indeed conveyed and my motherly work was done once she sipped from it and calmed down.

I saw my friend who gave me said mug this weekend.  We went to a Billy Joel concert together, 

just like we did in high school when we won tickets from Z100.  Only this time the tickets were offered to me by her amazing family as part of a Mother's Day gift to her and we weren't sitting behind the stage either for that matter.  We waited from May for this weekend to come.  And as it is with all awesome things you wait for, it was over way too quickly.  

But it's as if time stood still.  We got together, picked up where ever it might have been we left off however many years ago.  From the time we were 16 until today.  Not a minute had passed.  We were exactly as we had always been.  We could have been sitting around her mom and dad's kitchen table. Or in my backyard in my pool.  Just being silly, laughing at everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company like we were at her house for lunch in between periods during high school.

It got me thinking.  It's almost like this mug is like our friendship.  We have been friends since we were 16 our friendship, and subsequently we, have been through so much just like this mug.  We are kind of battered and scratched up too but still extremely functional and strong. That mug has been through about 11 moves in it's lifetime with nary a crack, it's strong, just like we are.

So yes my dearest daughter, I did pick out this mug just for you tonight.  Like Caramia picked it out for me all of those years ago.  To take a little piece of her with me as I left, to hold on to when the going got rough or I just got lonely.  I gave it to you tonight.  To help ease your mind and frustration and comfort you when you read the words on it as it has for me for almost thirty years.

Really now, is this just a mug? I think not.  It has a magic all it's own.  

Just a mug? To me it is the Holy Grail of friendship.

Thank you Caramia for giving me this as a gift, and giving me the gift of your friendship all of these years.  Until we see each other again....

Valentine's Day, for what it's worth

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.  Yeah, whatever...

As I was laying in bed this morning, this warming my feet I realized it was Valentine's Day.

Yeah, I am not that warm, mushy type over the day at all.  I had just wished my Valentine for the last 26 years the happiest of days and gave him a kiss as he rolled over and went back to sleep, but that is pretty much all we are doing.  I hate all of the hype associated with it.  Brad has tried so hard to make me get into the sentiment of it all previously, but no thanks, I'll pass.  Like I said to him a million times before, you treat me like Valentine's Day is every day my love, you do not need to shower me with stuff on one day.

I hate that I am rather Grinch like in attitude about it.  But as I sat and dissected my emotions  I realized just why I hate the day the way I do.

Let's rewind to the sixth grade with my first ever Valentine's day memory that has stuck out in my mind, I drew a card for a guy I liked.  It had angels and hearts all over it.  The doodler in me was proud of the card I produced.  My friends at the time put me up to actually presenting it to him in front of a whole slew of boys.  Did I ever mention I was rather portly in the sixth grade?  Kind of large-ish and definitely not the girl that the boys swooned over that's for sure.  Do you see where I am going with this??  But anyway, I gave the kid my card fully hoping, because he definitely wasn't in with the popular group of boys, that he would be like "WOW" this is really great!  She drew this card for me, she wants me to be her Valentine!  That's awesome!  What in the living hell was I thinking??? This is a boy in the sixth grade for heaven's sake, we all know how this turned out right?

He laughed, tore it in two and threw it at me.  I was stunned to say the least.  I didn't expect him to be so degrading, I didn't expect to walk away that humiliated with people laughing at me.  I tried to act like it didn't matter, trying to be all nonchalant, laughing about how poorly it went, but oh how it stung....I never did draw another card for a guy again.

Or let's go ahead and go to high school where they have those STOOPID "Send a flower to the one you love" sales for Valentine's Day.  That was always great for your ego, especially when you never had a Valentine.  Sure my best friends and I gave flowers to each other so we wouldn't look totally pathetic, but yeah, it made you feel great to see the cheerleaders, the pretty girls who ALWAYS had boyfriends or the girls who were a little more willing in the back seat of a car walking around with full bouquets.

I did have a boyfriend one year for Valentine's Day, I was incredibly excited.  My best friend and I spent all afternoon making heart shaped chocolate chip cookies for our boyfriends who were best friends.  They both went to Kings Point Merchant Marine Academy, both midshipmen.  We got all dolled up, trying to look our best for the guys.  It was my first ever Valentine! I wasn't missing a moment of all of the hype.  I was soaking up the moment, reveling in the fact that I got to brag at school that my BOYFRIEND went to college, that I actually had a Valentine for once...So we went, cookies in tow, so excited to give them to them.

*Le sigh* I had my first VALENTINE, I got to get a kiss from my VALENTINE I got to give heart shaped cookies I made to my VALENTINE.  My VALENTINE eagerly accepted them from me and broke up with me as he ate one and walked away into a restricted area where civilians, particularly girl civilians, weren't allowed.

wahh wahh wahhhhhh.....

In the immortal words of plankton, Well this stinks....

You know I thought the sting from the sixth grade would never be topped.  I thought that humiliation could never be duplicated.  And I was right.

This was worse, way worse than that.

Yeah, I know, I know, let it go Danielle.  This is stuff that happened eons ago. I have a Valentine now, I have had one for 26 years, I am lucky.  But truly? I cannot get into the hype, not when I see girls in the same boat I was.  Not when we are supposed to place some type of importance on relationships on one day a year.  One day that is supposed to be a defining day showing how much they care for you.  Not when I was dealt the humiliation that I was two times.  Like the saying goes, if it happens once shame on you, if it happens twice?  Shame on me.  Sorry, I wasn't opening myself up to being shamed again.

I know it would be different if I had the experience my daughter is having with her first boyfriend. Heck the boy woke me up this morning so excited to wake her up and bring her her first Valentine's Days gifts ever.  He's taking her to a movie, brought her a teddy bear, her favorite candies from Sour Patch kids to Ferrer Roche.....

A boy who has been so sweet, not your typical hockey player but one that is treating her like the princess she deserves to be treated like.  It is all so fairy tale-esque.  Another *le sigh* is to be inserted here.

I guess Valentine's Day will never be important to me.  Will never make me all mushy and warm and fuzzy.  

Besides red has never been my color, ask my family, it makes me look ruddy....

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

I remember that commercial.  Laughing like hell at the re-enactment of an old lady falling and not being able to get up.  Her grabbing at the lavalier around her neck saying that familiar catch phrase.

I have been feeling like that poor, old woman on the commercials these days.  Grabbing at this magical locket that I should have around my neck, waiting for the cavalry to arrive and scoop me up....but nope, it only exists on TV.

I am sitting here, staring at my work, pondering my life and I am thinking someone save me.  It's not just the work, although that has been stressing me to the nines, it's just my life.  Everything that goes on every day that keeps piling up and weighing me down.  Some days I feel like Atlas, the world on my shoulders, me straining to keep it all up in the air, and have everyone believe me when I make it look like everything is fine. Other days I am Sisyphus, rolling that boulder uphill, almost reaching the top, only having it roll back down and me having to start rolling it up all over again.

I said to my husband the other day, after he came back from his new found passion, kayaking, I need kayaking.  Well I don't really need kayaking, but I need an activity like kayaking.  An escape as it were.  A place where I go and nothing from the outside world touches me while I mentally release the stress and get myself prepared to deal with the world again.

But it's hard, when you're a mom and a woman and you are trained from an early age that everyone and everything in your life is more important than you.  That your children, your husband, hell even your mangy dogs haha, have to come before you.

So where do you find a passion when your passion has been taking care of everything and everyone else and it's the only passion you know?

I have no bucket list items breathing down my neck, and the few that are left would hardly be an escape.

And as I sit here wishing for my kayak I am miserable. I have a kid home sick with the flu. Not the way to start the holiday's but it is what it is. I am so upset about it. Not just because she is sick. Of course that upsets me, I hate that she's not feeling well.  But because I had plans. Katie, Erin and I were going on a pseudo hockey roadie. Just for a day. We were traveling 4 hours away. To see our old billet play for his new team.  We had the most amazing time when we would go to see our team play.  I think we liked the car ride better than the games lol!!

We were going to jam out in the car, listen to all of our old favorite songs. The songs we blasted every road trip.  Even play our new favorite game of Name That Tune.  I was stoked. I was actually looking forward to it. I had my potential kayaking moment. Even if it was just for a day. A day of not working, cleaning up after a house full of people, a pack of dogs, not cooking for the masses, doing laundry, shuttling kids from point A to point B.  Not doing ANYTHING *le sigh* I actually let myself think it was going to happen.

Wow was I looking forward to it. I guess it's because I haven't really done anything for me in forever. My awesome trip to Dallas was two years ago.  It's sad that I look forward to getting dental work because I know no one can bother me while I get my teeth done!!

So this was like a mini me kind of thing. I wouldn't have to do anything, just focus on me having fun. Me doing me.

Of course it couldn't happen. It would appear that is too much to ask for. Then I feel guilty. Guilty for being so upset our roadie isn't happening. Guilty for being angry my daughter is sick. Guilty for asking to carve out just a little time for me after all I am expected to do.  Guilty for wanting to get in my car and ride and ride and ride....

It begs the question at what point is it ok to feel this way?  At what point is it ok to say what the hell?? I wasn't asking for much. Just asking for my sanity!  What about me? It isn't fair (ok did you all just break into that 80's song with me? What about me? It isn't fair! I've had enough now I want my share....admit it, I know you did!)

I feel guilty.  I sound so ungrateful.  I should be thankful for all I have.  But I can't see the forest for the trees.

So what do I do?  I blog I guess.  I sit in front of my computer and type my frustration.  I said to my 19 year old, I think I am having an existential crisis.  She told me it was a mid life crisis.  That existential crises are for hip 20 somethings not 47 year old moms hahaha!!  I suppose she is right, but it sounds so banal, so downright ordinary that I should be having a midlife crisis after all I have done with my life thus far.  But what if I am?

I don't know.  The thought scares me, it conjures up all sorts of unsavory images, none of which I want to be associated with.  I need to find my passion, something that is my release.

I guess I need to find my kayak.  

Happy Thanksgiving

As I stood in the kitchen cooking with Heather this morning, I was doing it with a heavy heart.  I am thinking of people like my dad, whose birthday is today, or Jess, who I celebrated previous Thanksgivings with.  People who loved this time of year, Jess' house is decorated already for Christmas.  My dad loved being surrounded by tons of people, celebrating all that he had.  I guess he knew he was a lucky man.

I chastised myself as I peeled my potatoes for feeling sad.  Then my phone chimed I had a text, which I just read a study that said hearing you have a text affects the same pleasure centers in your brain that drugs do, go figure, now I know why I like them so much.  It was from my neighbor across the street.  I had offered my kitchen and to cook whatever she needed this Thanksgiving because she is sick as sick can be and I couldn't imagine dragging myself to make a feast feeling like a truck hit me. Thankfully her husband and boys have it all under control, but like I said, my kitchen is your kitchen.  Don't be bashful, if you need something let me know.  I am thankful that these fine people live across the street from me, that her youngest son and my youngest daughter have been buddies for the whole time we have been here, which if I am remembering right is 10 years.

As I put my phone down I thought I am going to affect some people's pleasure centers in their brains and text them.  Former players and their families that I miss so dearly, that I made Thanksgiving for these last how many years?  Family members that I wish I could be celebrating with.

I got thinking about people in my Midlo Crossfit family, people that make me realize on a daily basis that family isn't necessarily only comprised of the people you were born to.  But the people you surround yourself and nourish your soul with.

Then I hear Anthony.  His squeals are filling the air.  Wrapping themselves around my heavy heart reminding me there is so much to be thankful for.  Look at him, this little miracle that isn't so little anymore.  The answer to many prayers to God for so many things.

And as I type Harley the Boxer as he is affectionately known here, came and nudged me with that huge Boxer head of his.  Putting his head on my lap, looking at me with those soulful Boxer eyes that have seen so much sadness, that walked miles with his mom in the hopes of raising her spirits.  As he layed that big head in my lap I scratched him and found the peace that only a dog can bring my heart.

I hear my girls interacting in the family room.  Excitedly getting Anthony his first meal of sweet potatoes ready so he can have Thanksgiving with us, and another moment my heart is light.  I have these beautiful young women in my life, and I know how lucky I am to have each and every one of them.

For some crazy reason I am reminded of Jack's speech in Titanic:

"I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you... to make each day count. 

To you my friends and family, the people that make up the very fabric of my life have a beautiful and blessed Thanksgiving. 

To understanding that life is indeed a gift and to making each day count.....