Nothing like a good case of strep to slow down and smell the coffee/hot tea/Vicks.



It’s been quite a week, yes it has. From a house full of family and squeals and giggles and elephants tromping on the floors and sticky fingers touching everything, then watching that van full of family drive away on a Monday morning in the rain, to going back to work to begin the week with one less employee/friend who moved on, to a CASA child in total meltdown and turmoil, to gargantuan lymph glands that decided to sing Adele’s new song, “Hello,” to a throat that refused to be ignored, to horror on the TV in the middle of my sick day and delirium in bed, to a flat tire gone unnoticed except for the fact that in my delirium I had to visit the Minute Clinic for the magic penicillin and happened to discover said flat tire as I walked out of the store…

It’s been quite a week.

So, this morning, as I sit at the kitchen table in the quiet after being told by my bosses to GO BACK HOME AND DON’T MAKE US SICK, I am reminded how beautiful life is.

I am grateful for this warm sunshine that is filling the room, making the ornaments sparkle.

I am grateful for the breeze outside that is making the stubborn leaves, still hanging on for dear life, shimmer and dance.

I am grateful for the smell of hot tea and dryer sheets.

I am grateful for a new thermometer that works.

I am grateful for easy to obtain medicine.

I am grateful for people who are good at their professions who know how to deal with foster children in turmoil, especially my CASA child’s attorney who has less than 10 seconds in her day to volunteer and give more time, but she does it anyway, because she cares and loves our girl. And especially for law enforcement and EMT’s and firefighters who train and respond in tragedies and run to, instead of running from.

I am grateful for safe trips home and families back in normal.

I am grateful that Dad isn’t sick and grateful that he vacuumed and cleaned up and made the house back to itself once again.

I am grateful for a husband who is the best caregiver, who covers with blankets and asks if I need and offers that cup of hot tea and handles the mountain of bedding laundry.

And I am grateful for less than gargantuan lymph glands.



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