You know, sometimes I just want to have a pity party. Why is it that a 50 year old, professional woman can't seem to get it together some days? Last night I promised myself that I would sleep until 10:00 a.m. But this morning at 7:00 a.m., tossing and turning, all I could think about was my Daddy and how I wish I could talk to him just one more time. Just about the time the first tear was ready to roll down my cheek, I tripped over the dog in the hallway and just about fell down the stairs. "Well, good morning, Max" I said to the 100 pound dog who lay snoring in the dark hallway. He didn't respond, other than a slight shift of his hind quarters and a big exhale.
Down the stairs, into the kitchen to where my current 'best friend and confidant' rests beautifully on the kitchen counter. It's my Keurig single cup brewer....oh, how I love my coffee brewer (I recently was told NOT to call it a coffee pot by the rather-uppity-snuppity clerk at Bed, Bath and Beyond.) So I call it a brewer in hopes it will make me feel younger, somehow perkier, somehow more stylish - like her. :)
Wild Mountain Blueberry Blend was my choice this morning - a Green Mountain Coffee favorite. Just the smell of that jewel-of-a-java will wake up the taste buds of even the sleepiest teenage girl in my house (there were four of them this morning.) No such luck; they were out cold.
Okay, coffee, paintbrush in hand and ready to dive into painting that big armoire I found on sale at the thrift store. The phone rings; its' someone from the ministry where I work who needs advice and assistance with a computer issue. "Sure thing," I said. Then, twenty minutes later, I am warming up my gourmet cup of joe in the microwave. (Somehow, I don't think the clerk at Bed, Bath and Beyond would be too pleased with me right now).
Just when I was ready to grab that red mug of goodness from the microwave, and my trusty paintbrush, my phone rings again. It's my mom. Asking in her sweet-as-sugar-I-need-to-go-a-few-places-today voice "what are you going to do this morning?" I hesitated, but reluctantly agreed to come and get her sometime later in the day. She seemed so happy with the hope someone would come rescue her from her ivory-tower apartment and take her out into the world. I hung up the phone and sat down on the bed. I was so aggravated and so caught up in, well, ME. I sat there for what felt like twenty more minutes having the biggest pity party about how I never had time to do the things on my TO DO list. I talked myself into a frenzy of self-absorbtion about 'poor, old, pitiful me' (isn't that a song?)
Just then, He spoke to me. In the kindest, gentliest voice. "Hey Tracy, He said," just this morning you were wishing that you could speak to your Daddy just one more time. And now your Mom wants just a little of your time today and you are going to miss this blessing if you don't get off your pity party pot." WOW, God. WOW!
So, I got up off the bed, put on my shoes, brushed my teeth, and headed for the door. With a song in my heart and an anticipation and realization that God had given me one more day with my precious Mom, I sat the red coffee mug of goodness on the counter, gave the dog some fresh water, turned off the alarm system, yelled 'goodbye girls, love you' to four sleeping teenagers, and headed out the back door.
Goodbye coffee and painting project. I will see you another day! Today, its me and my Mom making memories that I will cherish and remember somewhere down this road called life.
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