Grateful

Every now and then I sit down at my computer to remind myself how wonderful my life is. As classical music is playing, I sit here with a delicious cup of coffee, brewed in my state of the art, completely equipped kitchen. My refrigerator and pantry are filled with everything I might need and in some cases a few things I don't need (Guilty :-)

The HVAC is keeping the environment a crisp 72 degrees as the thermometer outside on the balcony tips 90.  The Basil, Lavender, and Rosemary are flourishing in the morning sun that sweeps the balcony and fills the condo with bright light and hope. It does the same again at sundown only as reflected by the tall buildings a block or two across from me.

The floors shine cleanly having been cleaned by my housekeeper yesterday and the bed is newly linen-ed as are the bathroom towels. The condo is, as it usually is, in order with things put away and others in their place. The collections fill shelves and tables and desks but in an orderly fashion so that many have said, "Doesn't feel cluttered!" My closets are clean, once again, as we begin at the top of the "messy/orderly" cycle only to return to the messy and then once again back to orderly.

The green plants growing in the living room say "HOME." The art work and black and white photographs, mostly by friends, hanging on the walls of the condo in the "regulation" black frames say "HOME." The Dragon's Blood Red bathroom with its Asian Collection filling one wall, the Colonial Blue Guest bathroom, the deep and intense gray that flows on the condo walls in a zig zag from the entrance door to the far living room corner say "HOME." The TV Room/Den, with its large flat screen Smart TV, more art and plants, and black leather guest sofa-bed say "HOME." The "Leaving and Arriving Shrine" at the front door say "HOME."

Most of all probably, Gigi and Emma, our two three year old cats say "HOME." They greet me on my arriving and send me off on my leaving. They sleep most of the day but also chase and run and get into trouble. They never get up on the kitchen counter or tables, except when I catch them. Emma plays "fetch" with her red and blue puff ball and Gigi plays the same with her crumpled up calendar page. At night they snuggle next to me as we all fall asleep.

My car is parked easily in the garage that is just a few steps away from my unit, down a flight of stairs, and out the door into the parking garage. The 2005, white, convertible rag top was almost replaced but after a little soul searching and some advice from my Financial Advisor (whom I call "Mom") is here to stay for as long as it serves me, which it does well.

Out in the neighborhood, within walking distance, is located almost everything I need: some 90+ restaurants, grocery stores, library, postoffice, book stores, bakery, a 7-11, clothing shops, a bicycle shop, my barber, a 16 screen movie theater, an art supply store, cleaners, and more.

If going into Chicago, the CTA and the METRA systems are less than half a block from the condo and after a 30 minute ride, I am downtown. When I do take my car out of her parking place easy access to streets and highways and expressways makes getting around easy.

I am able to live with Gregory's Dementia/Alzheimer's Disease due to the fact that he is being so well taken care of at Lieberman Center and by Manny. I am filled with JOY even though it is carried on the shoulders of SORROW. I enjoy our visits and am so filled with love at Gregory's "Monumental Momentary Miracles" of engagement as well as with the interactions I have with many of the other residents and staff. I bring him treats, bake pies, keep his refrigerator and cabinet filled with goodies for him and for the staff to share. We laugh and cry together. We kiss and hug. We get silly sometimes and then laugh some more.

Most of all, I wake up each morning grateful for who I am and for what I have. I do not take this for granted. Rarely is there something scheduled on my calendar that I do NOT want to do. Rarely is there anything that I am worried about. My concerns are almost nonexistent. Making sure Gregory is doing well at Lieberman does take some time and at times does cause some concerns, but the details are always worked out and I have very little, any more, to fear or dread for his future.

I can travel a little (do not want to be away from him too long,) attend opera and theater and movies. I can enjoy meals out with friends and family. I can take myself on little shopping or antiquing adventures. Pretty much I can buy what I want although my wants are minimal. Sometimes family comes to town and I enjoy their staying in the condo. Sometimes friends do the same.

Sometimes I am very active and other times I never leave the house or get out of my "jammies" I just purchased a "Senior" discount ticket, as well as getting an "Industry" discount to see a friend in Chicago Folks Operetta's Madame Pompadour for Saturday night. During the day I'll walk over to the lake to spend some time at the annual Evanston International Art Fair and look forward to the operetta performance that night. Meanwhile I have to go take the Rhubarb Pie out of the oven and then am going to visit Gregory. Rhubarb is his favorite.

Being 70 isn't so bad!

Hunan Star

There is a little hole in the all Chinese carry out place on the way home between Gregory at Lieberman and the condo. When I leave Gregory, I call from the car and my order is ready to pick up as I pass.

The place is clean but old, gently used, and not too attractive. Overgrown plants in odd assortments of ceramic Chinese pots line the counter edge and part of the shelves in the windows.

While there are three stools at each window shelf, I've never seen anyone eating there. Same for the table with four chairs tucked into a corner.

Today a Black man was sitting at the table. Amy, the owner / order taker / cashier delivered to him, reaching over the cash register; a plastic fork, napkin, and paper plate loaded with fried rice.

In this atmosphere of neglect, necessity, and crowdedness the man bowed his head and mumbled a prayer over his food before he began eating.

It caused me to stop for a minute to think about how often I gobble down a meal or a snack; an order of fried rice; and don't give a thought of thanks for how the meal got to me.

The sky, the clouds, the sun, the rain, the earth, the farm.

The people involved in growing the food, processing the food, packaging the food, selling the food, and transporting the food to market.

The restaurant owners who purchased the food, prepared the food, cooked the food, and served the food.

Now bring to the table the suffering, sorrow, joy, and happiness of all those people involved. Think of them getting up every day, going to work, finishing a day, and going home to their families.

Think of all the trials and tribulations, positive and negative, of what these people go through at work,  at home, in their lives, in their homes, with their families, with their health.

What a lot I have to be grateful for and what a lot of people have been involved in providing my sustenance. I should stop and think of them and thank them more often.

Like the Black man did for a few moments when he bowed his head and prayed over his fried rice.

Impatient but Grateful

I was standing in line at the grocery store waiting to check out with one head of lettuce. The person in front of me didn't have a large purchase but the checker was very slow, and the price scanner didn't seem to be working so it took two or three swipes per item. Then the checker had to change the paper roll and fumbled about a bit.

I turned to an older lady behind me, who happened to have only one head of cabbage to purchase, and said, "I am feeling very impatient." I said it in a calm way but none the less feeling impatient.

The lady replied in a heavy unidentified accent, "Well, we should be grateful that we have food that can be purchased and that we can afford to pay for it. In some countries this would not be possible."

She asked about the Romain Lettuce and how I used it. I asked about her cabbage and what she was going to cook with it. After paying for my purchase, I added, "Yes and we should be grateful that we have our health and are able to get here to shop." She agreed. Her attitude was infectious. I felt better.