Predictable gratitude

Everyday we grow older; that’s a fact. We experience the growth day to day and moment to moment, however in my experience, I tend to just take it for what it is. I notice it sometimes and I acknowledge it, but I rarely sit and evaluate it. 

I got to Lacee’s house yesterday while she was still at work. I gathered up all the dirty laundry (her’s and mine) and started to put a load in the washing machine. Mindless, productive tasks keep my mind at bay and my heart rate down when I’m stressed, however I do let my mind wander sometimes and yesterday found myself contemplating my age. I am twenty-one years old. I have lived on my own, I have signed leases, I have bought a car, I have dealt with insurance companies and repair shops and realtors. I’ve done grown-up things. I make my own money, I do my own grocery shopping, and I make my own decisions. 

When I switched the laundry from the washer to the dryer, I started thinking about my future; where I was going to live, what my life would look like a few years from now after I graduate with my Doctor of Pharmacy degree. Would Lacee and I own a house by then? Would we be in the market to buy a house? What about family planning? Pets? Would we dress the same? Who would our friends be? And for the first time, I realized that there was no real way of knowing. The only way to have any control over the picture I was trying to see was to appreciate everything that I have right now. 

I need to appreciate that I have Lacee, and that we both have roofs over our heads and food in our kitchens (however scarce). I need to be grateful for my education and the learning opportunities that I have. I may have a lot of health issues right now, but I am grateful to be alive. 

Finding a place in my mind to be presently grateful; allowing myself to stop for one moment in my day to think about what I have and what I want and what I deserve… is imperative. However unbearable and unpredictable life may seem at times, being grateful for all that I have… is beautiful.

Intensive encounter

I dread doing laundry. I live in an apartment complex where, in order to do my laundry, I have to leave my apartment, go out the back door, through the courtyard, into the building next door, up to the second floor, around the corner, down to the first floor and to the laundry room *deep breath*.

My dirty clothing pile had merited it’s own zip code, so I decided it was time to launder the filthy mess. I loaded it all up in my laundry bag and climbed down the flight of stairs to begin the trek to the laundry room. I managed to only have two loads of laundry, which equals three dollars. I came back in a half an hour and all of the dryers were either broken or taken. I only knew that the empty driers did not work because the elderly woman burning a hole in my back with her eyes, alerted me.

I decided that I would wait because her driers only had 17 minutes left and I didn’t think that going back to sit on my couch for a few minutes was worthwhile. Immediately, this woman began talking to me.

I learned her entire story; where she was born, where she’s lived, the nature of her life’s work, what her mother used to cook for her, where she had each of her children, the names of her grand children and their children, all of the people who are presently dead or alive in her life, and many other little facts. This woman was born and raised in Alabama and moved to Boston in the 60′s. She is 71 years old and stopped working two summers ago. She still had her Alabama accent and that wonderful southern way of telling a story. Her life could be a movie. I couldn’t stop smiling.

I was so impressed that I was able to learn this woman’s life story in the 17 minutes it took her laundry to dry. I can honestly say that I have always wanted to meet a stranger (and I always imagined it someone completely different than myself) and learn all about them, and never see them again. Her name is Dotty. She made me smile, she enriched my life – she might not know what those 17 minutes meant to me, but I will never know what they meant to her either. Two lives can connect for a moment and mean a million, while we all have relationships that linger for years and bring us nothing at all.

Those 17 minutes were beautiful. Being given the time to listen to learn about a total strangers life is beautiful.