I'm sitting here full on See's candy and egg nog trying to write something that says something for my column.
My mind seems to go to just one word. One thought. One state of being.
Yes, peace. For the first time in my life there is a strange sense of peace. An eery sense of calm. A mysterious feeling of balance.
It's odd, foreign, and oh so welcome.
I have long been the child and adult with the word "Poor" spoken before hearing my name.
"Poor, Susan. What's going to happen to her?" "Poor, Susan. She tries so hard." "Poor, Susan. When will it get easier?" "Poor, Susan..."
Now, this isn't to say I have ever been seen as a victim or felt like one. It simply means that there has always been something not right in my life at any given time. Be it the relationship, the job, the income, the addictions, the traumas, the failures... always there has been some part of the puzzle missing, broken or simply lost.
And yet, I've always tried to be grateful for the pieces I have been given to work with. Somehow believing that my puzzle is exactly as it should be.
But today I can honestly say I see the picture—the one I suppose I have been given to build—and it looks really, really beautiful.
There's the newly 9.1-year-old girl with a smiling face, a bearded dragon from Santa in her hand that she named "Joy" and a heart glowing so bright you can see it through her shirt. There's her grandma and aunt and uncle and cousins all laughing, full of good health, sipping their drinks and giving hugs. There're the friends bringing light and history and support in their baskets of goodies. There's the handsome man with the kind eyes, humorous spirit and gentle generous heart sitting by the Christmas tree holding his hand out to... her.
Me. Yes, holding it out to me.
And there's me, looking at all of them. Taking them all in. Enjoying every moment. And there's the Christmas card on the shelf with the picture of my boss that reminds me I have a job. A great job. And how grateful I am to get paid to do what I love.
There's music, and animals and dancing...
And there's this column. This column that I have the privledge to write. This column that reminds me every day that I am not and never have been alone in the making of my puzzle.
Thank you for sharing your puzzles with me. I hope your picture is one of peace.
And, if not, if it's still a bit lost... keep building it.