Catch and Release Part 4

I can’t be mad forever. Today I want to share all the things I appreciate about the past three months:

• My best friend beside me every day helping me, holding me, hurrying me, hushing me. He is more than my best friend, he is my everything.
• My children, whose compassion and gentle strength amaze me every minute.
• My mother, who quietly leads, guides, and watches her little ducklings as we walk life’s journey. Her strength to bear all things and fierce devotion to dad leaves me in awe. She really lived out that whole Corinthians & Proverbs thing.
• My sisters. Always by my side. Never abandoning me, come what may. I think that’s what i”m most proud of this year. We chose “us” over everything else. We will burn wigs together. Ride or die.
• Nurses who really care about their patients.
• Nurses who do the “unglamorous work” of changing chux, bed linens, taking blood sugars, cleaning up spills, and feeding those who can’t feed themselves.
• Doctors who shoot straight and honor the values and beliefs of their patients and their families.
• Hospice Social Workers who shoot straight and never lie.
• Hospice Nurses who help guide you when you aren’t sure which end is up.
• Hospice Nurses who help you do the cleaning and cares and encourage you by telling you that you’re doing awesome.
• Hospice Administrators who give more than they probably should because they truly care.
• Nurses who know you personally and go above and beyond to help make this crappy situation somewhat tolerable.
• A friend who rushes down in the middle of the day and leaves a Cross & Serenity Prayer on your table, because she knows, she’s been there, and she’s going to be holding you up when this is all over.
• One more chance to say the things… a little more time to hold hands and laugh. Even if it’s only me who does the laughing.
• Sisters who are loyal and fierce. Sisters who unapologetically defend your values and calm your unspoken fears.
• Work that is worthy.
• Being able to educate my children at home, which gives them opportunities other kids don’t have.
• Learning things I had no intention of learning.
• Comforting others.
• Being comforted by others. This one is huge for me because I don’t like vulnerability; yet, I have no choice. I’m just as human as the next guy.
• People who understand that no words are better than many words.
• Faces that smile when you smile, and cry when you cry.
• Hearts that can feel what you feel and you know without a word being spoken.
• Text messages that act as hugs and words that speak life.
• Prayers.
• People who just step up or in. They just know.
• Being able to speak freely to my family and knowing they can speak freely to me. We can hear each other’s hearts and minds, and hold each other in love and respect.
• Rabbits that have provided a source of comfort and normalcy.
• Having the ability (physically and financially) to drive mom.
• Frontline workers like the hospital receptionists who have to endure so much, yet do so with respect and courtesy.
• Good road trip music.
• Neighbors who make the trek to give their condolences.
• Notes in mailboxes.
• Hugs from friends I haven’t seen in years.
• People who encourage others; truly lifting them up.
• A mother and father in law I can call at any moment for help and they answer their phones.
• Grandparents who love their grandchildren.
• Our parents doing the preplanning that made things a little less difficult.
• Written wishes in black and white.
• Warm weather on unexpected days.
• Knowing that dad had some pretty amazing friends in his life.
• Getting to meet two of those friends in person, and hearing from those I’ve known. The sharing of their memories of times with dad.
• Those who don’t speak, but send their thoughts and sentiments in cards or actions or hugs.
• I can not say this enough: prayer. Praying outloud with us, praying silently in your own home, praying in church, praying in your car… whatever and wherever it was, we felt it.
• Siblings. Dad had two of the best. I’m pretty sure one of them is an actual saint. The other one saved him more times than she could count, so she should be one.
• People showing respect for dad.
• The ability to spend dad’s last days with him and mom and my sisters and his sisters.
• Donna.
• The people who wondered but didn’t ask. Thank you for being respectful.
• Thank you notes that said it all.
• A funeral home and directors who treat you like family.
• Compassion from others.
• Understanding and grace from everyone who had to tolerate my tardiness, forgetfulness, and just plain “out-of-it” attitude.
• The lady at the bank who took my smart-a$$ attitude with a grain of salt and poured out grace all over me. I’m sorry lady. I really didn’t know what else to say. Thank you for your grace.
• My sister Sofia who had every right to ignore my phone calls and questions, and to hang up on me when I needed to rant, but she didn’t. She stayed engaged and connected, and I am so thankful for that. I don’t know how she did it.
• My husband’s collegues, who were so understanding and gave me so much sympathy when I called to give him the news. They were so kind.
• My pastor, who answered my message with sympathy and kindness; he also sent all the helps for planning dad’s service.
• To my “uncle” whom I didn’t recognize at the graveside service, bore the colors, and alongside his brethren in the Honor Guardand, stood in the freezing sleet to provide the military service for dad. He would have been so proud, so humbled that by that honor.
• The funeral home director who went early, set up the tent, and waited in the cold with us; walking dad’s sister to her vehicle to make sure she was safe.
• The funeral home director who read every edit, made everything run smoothly, spoke on behalf of our family and was compassionate to us on the day of the Celebration of Life.
• The funeral home director who stood for hours prepping, serving, and cleaning up for the luncheon.
• Every family member and friend who showed up to pay respects to dad or show their love for us.
• The ones who have so much love they cover up all the dumb things I said and did during the 1st quarter of 2022.
• My cousin who held my hand and walked with me through the beginning of this, and still checks in today with quotes or pictures or just a “hey”. Her support during a time when things weren’t any easier for her means the world to me.
• Did I mention that man of mine, who hugged all the people, shook the hands, held us up, waited patiently, and didn’t yell at me when I booked us for a double rabbit show the day of visitation?
• Also, the rabbit club that allowed us to cancel that second show of the double and made a way for us to give our kids some sense of normalcy in such a crap year.
• The teacher who was always gracious to help answer questions and postpone meetings at the drop of the hat.
• The kids who dealt with a “less than” education for a month while I spent time caring for dad. General lessons on the computer just don’t compare to the wonderful things we cover when I’m present and attentive.
• Our kids are honest and know they can be honest about whatever they are feeling, AND at the current moment, they feel comfortable doing so.
• That this list of things I appreciate is much longer than the list of things that have made me mad.