Jolt: verb \ˈjōlt\- to surprise or shock.

Image result for rumble strip

I was driving last week, driving for hours. My mind wandered from time to time and my eyes and brain betrayed me, wanting to doze and dream. Just when I was comfortable in that transition from wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to Snow White’s sleepy dwarf…

…rumble strips in the centerline of the highway.  B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bd.  What a jolt of reality.

I really dislike those rumble strips.

And accidentally touching my finger to an outlet.

And biting down on my tongue in the middle of a great piece of pizza.

And the shrill surprise of the smoke detector.

Or falling and having the wind knocked out of me.

Or being the beneficiary of some joker who thinks it’s funny to squeeze a clown horn at the back of my head.

And a backseat comedian who pops a balloon in the car while I’m driving.

I am grateful sometimes for rumble strips and other things that I really dislike, except for that balloon popping trauma. Usually, they serve a pretty useful purpose and cause me to correct my complacency and at times, apathy.

Image result for pop a balloon

I am grateful for pleasant jolts, too, though:

Choosing the right door when making a deal with Monty Hall on a game show. Didn’t happen to me, but it’s fun to watch it happen to others.

An envelope in the mail addressed to “Ama” with pictures inside.

A spontaneous conversation with Ann this morning as I was giving blood and hearing her talk about publishing a book, a dream of mine.

Michelle walking through the door with Carriage Crossing cinnamon-rolls-on-steroids.

Opening the garage door to see a “new” car.

A text message that said, “You don’t need an invitation. Just let us know when you are coming…”

Watching a glorious sunrise.

Thinking I heard Mom’s voice, and then wishing for that sound once more.

Image result for memories

I am grateful for another opportunity tonight to see my Bingo moms – they will assuage that dull pain I’ve felt since hearing Mom’s voice.

And I am grateful for the Big Red gum, the handy dandy band-aid purse containers, the Reese’s peanut butter cups, and the travel size Gold Bond medicated powders that will be their prizes, all things that remind me of my mama.

Happiness is…
all the treasures found in the bottom of Mom’s purse.
She would definitely win some money on Let’s Make a Deal.

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