A Gentle Reminder

It’s been three years since my parents died and holidays are still tough, especially Christmas. Growing up, Christmas was extra special; my mom spent months planning and baking, we got dressed up for two family dinners (Christmas and Christmas Eve), sang songs and built memories to last a lifetime.

Fast forward a few decades to when I have been with Dave for more than 25 years and we have our own boys. Like most couples, we have created our own family traditions, which included spending time with my parents. Since their passing, it has just been the four of us on Christmas Day; my brothers spend Christmas with their in-laws and we get together later. This year, I needed my brothers to be a part of my Christmas Day.

As ridiculous as this may sound, my not being able to run has made this Christmas a difficult one. Year after year, I have always looked forward to the time off work and having a few decadent runs in the middle of the day; I have loved the challenge of making time to run on Christmas morning; I have been grateful for having the flexibility to run with my friends when it fits their schedules. This year, I didn’t have any of that. As much as I hoped that I would be running by Christmas, my shoes are still hanging in their cinch bag by the door.

This morning, I woke up at 7:30 and the house was still quiet. Zeda hadn’t asked me to go for a walk yet, and my two teeens were still sound asleeep. Christmas was different this year: no family, no running, and, now, no early wake-ups by my excited children. I was sad.

After walking and feeding Zeda, while waiting for her humans to wake up, I began to realize how lucky I was. Dave and the kids were all sound asleep. They weren’t driven by the need to wake up early to open their presents; they were happy. I stopped feeling sorry for myself.

I may not be able to run, but I have my health. I am injured; that’s it. I am not sick; I don’t have cancer; I’m not dying. I have my family: my husband, children and dog. We live in a well-built house, and we are safe and warm. This morning, they reminded me that we don’t have needs. They reminded me that life is good.

Focus on what you have, not what you want. Think about what lies ahead, not what you left behind. Keep dreaming and breathe because life is good.