four leaf clover

As this year comes to a not so graceful close,
I am reminded of all the many comings and goings I have been witness to.
There have been many.
For this I am grateful.

As all comings offer hope, and sunrises, and ah’s, and first breaths,
because there have been many goings I have been forced (I suppose) to find meaning in those “leavings.”
In the past 12 months I have said goodbye to a great soul I never met, a year I thought I’d never leave (39), the old me (completely, in nearly every way), friendships, relationships,
and a year of potty training, learning how to mother without being a Mom, and chasing away nightmares. This past year I have been grateful for strength, and a weakness that has forced me to reach out for help, when my path was too dimly lit to walk.
I have been grateful for a small child who loved me, regardless, to the moon and back down to the dirt…no matter my mood du jour.
I have enjoyed and said thanks to the universe for a reprieve of an illness just in time to have a bonfire with good friends on a perfect fall night. Even if we nearly got close lined “borrowing” wood from a neighbor.
I have been more grateful than I can ever express for penned words that somehow found a home in an inbox, that changed the world. I am grateful for a clothes drive that changed the lives of those I don’t know, and may never meet, from a woman I don’t know and may never meet. And I am grateful to the man who made it all possible, without knowing any of this.
This year has been trying, as it has been for everyone that has tried, and I thank my boyfriend for his patience, and love, and ability to listen without judgment…something I am hoping for more of in 2010.
I am grateful for those who have given without knowing me, for me, my freedom, my life. I am grateful not for a president I don’t know, but for a military who stands on a wall with or without me, so I can sleep with both eyes closed.
I am grateful for many things, many of which (most of which have not been mentioned) but one person, who will mostly go unnoticed and unnoted I say thank you.
I say thank you to someone who I mostly did not thank. In 40 plus years I don’t remember but a handful of thank you’s for an odd card or remembrance of my birthday.
To her, I say thank, and that I am grateful.
This woman, who most of you do not know, touched many.
Like so many great souls she did this without mention, or fuss.
She did this by giving a quiet gift on Christmas to her nieces, that none will forget.
Christmas socks.
Not your ordinary socks, but the nice thick ones with Christmas trees on them.
The kind you keep for years.
I am grateful for those socks.
In a time when I swore off socks (in college) I still wore those, with flip flops,
in the deep, wet, New Hampshire snow,
to say a special, thank and gratitude to her.
I will remember and be grateful, this year, and every year, for her giving a small boy five dollars, and teaching him to share one dollar with everyone in the room.
Gratitude is amazing and eternal.
This year, like many I will say goodbye to a great soul.
A wonderful aunt, who always had a porcelain Christmas tree lit to show the way
on Christmas Eve, and a kind soul who always remembered every holiday, especially Christmas, with those magical Christmas socks
As my family embraces, gathers strength, and prepares to say goodbye to one of its Godmothers, the world will never know.
Sometime between now and then, the world will have let go, and those that she saw having coffee across the street (her mother, father and brother) will have come to take her home, across a plane that none of us here can ever see, or visit, or even touch….not even for a minute.
Like so many great souls, here and now, and then and gone, she will have lived, and I am grateful.
We will be sad, and we will raise our glasses to a great woman, who once had purple hair, and thought nothing of it. To a woman who gave Christmas socks, and to a woman that many called, Aunt, sister, Mom, cousin, and friend, and to so many more that never got the chance….And also to a man, my Godfather, who, in her last breaths, stroked her legs and said “Hi Pretty.”
The body is cruel, but life is beautiful. Love is forever.
And for that I am grateful.
Always.

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 24th, 2009 at 7:28 pm and is filed under Essays.



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