Learning to
appreciate a day
out of context has made me a much happier person, and a better person for other people to know. The basic definition of this
phrase is that even if you feel your whole life
stinks, there are days, hours,
minutes, that are absolutely perfect. They are better than
what you would construct in your imagination.
The
most recent example I can think of is the day of
my sister's wedding. The week before it and the
week after it were absolutely
hellish. I flew from Arizona to Detroit a week early to help out, and
I was cold, sick, and totally unappreciated by anyone in my family. Granted, it was not my wedding day approaching, but I was
running around with my mother's car gathering placards, paying for the
wedding cake, wrapping ribbons on programs,
sewing wraps and purses, and generally being everyone's errand girl. I spent $400 on a plane ticket and all of my
vacation time to do this, a thank you would have been appropriate. The
big day came and my sister was a
shrew. It destroyed me to
see her swearing at our very young cousins, having a
hateful look on her face and well, generally being a
total bitch. She wanted outside pictures, in October, in Michigan. 45 degrees outside, with backless, sleeveless dresses.
Next to a river. I became sicker than I already was. After the wedding was
over, all of the activity died down and I was
stuck in suburbia with no transportation, and nothing but
Christian books and
Amway type videos in my mother's house. Not even any
NyQuil. I left after that "vacation" feeling as though I had been
beaten. Even what was supposed to be a
joyous reunion in Ohio was turned
sour by my borrowed vehicle getting
impounded.
Then I got home to
Tempe. I calmed down. I looked back on the last two
horrific weeks and began to
wash some color over the harsh black and white of my
memories. There was so much to appreciate, that I would have been a fool to
banish it all from my thoughts, the way I wanted to. The
color of the leaves. My youngest sister wearing a
furry cowboy hat to the bachelorette party. My now
brother-in-law weeping uncontrollably during their wedding vows. My
grandmother telling me
I look beautiful. Eating
really good Arabic food in east Dearborn. Seeing
witchiepoo's babies, with their
pudgy little cheeks. The relief in finding out that the truck was only impounded, and not
stolen - the title was in the
glove compartment (I know,
S M R T). Giving a speech about the
beautiful woman my married sister has grown up to be.
These are the sort of
things that make life worth living. The little stuff. I wish there were
more people in this world who were a little less
near sighted about life.