Tiny threads

Nothing cohesive is formulating for me to write.  I'm sitting here for nearly an hour, and then my memory jogs in a trail of fragmented pieces leading up to the end of this work week.  Beautiful moments I recorded throughout the week in my journal.  I was doing this every day for months, all throughout the day, but I let it slip and one day of forgetting turned into several weeks.  The problem with forgetting to write down the gratitude moments is that it means life slips into blur, running together as one giant piece of fabric instead of the thousands of tiny threads that bind it together.  


Gratitude remains hidden, forgotten, if not spoken.   And so I indulge in remembering...


Dark-skinned, dark-haired baby boy swallowed in a white tuxedo at Spanish mass, melting my heart.


Music in my head, dancing the cha-cha on the sidewalk as I walk to my car after Zumba class.


Practicing new communication skills with Ricardo after reading Men are from Mars, Women from Venus. 


Speaking Spanish with a Mexican customer, talking about Mexico and tortas.


The heartfelt gift from a loyal customer who supports my love of goats: the outline of a goat etched into a polished stone.


Annie, the 10-week golden retriever with huge doe-like eyes, silken fur and razor sharp teeth; sitting for a friendly chat with her owner in the coffee shop.


How kindness transforms interactions.


The 70-year old man sharing that he lives with prostate cancer, thanking me for my smile and flashing a nearly toothless one of his own.


Time spent with a truly amazing counselor, challenging me to see bigger.  


Protection from a potentially bad car crash.


A mechanic offering to fix Ricardo's car for barely more than the cost of the parts.  


Time for writing.