hope and thrive

 

 

This past week has been emotional for my family, comprised of seemingly small things, which, following the past 14 months of pandemic life, have felt significant, when all rolled into one typical little week. The makings of the week may have no interest to anyone else, but I know if I share them here, one day I will read this post and be touched by it.

In the past 7 days, the following has happened;

I went to the library for our weekly curbside pick-up and found that the library was open and I was welcomed in. I am fairly sure my reaction gave the staff a little bit of joy, because I had all the awe, wonder, and excitement of a 5 year old in a candy store. Yes, I had to hand sanitize, mask up, have my temperature taken, and more, but I got to browse books, touch books, and come home with books that I selected just because I liked the cover. 

Mike and I both got our first COVID vaccine shot. I have no desire to have any sort of debate here on my blog about vaccinations. My background is science and yet I did not enter the clinic lightly and it was a surreal experience. (We had minimal reactions to the first shot. I am aware through various sources of information that we are likely to react to the second shot.) 

We learned that we will be able to go to the lakeside cabin this summer. Last summer was the first year in my life that we were not able to go, it was a deep loss, and I thought (given the growth of the family that owns it) that 2019 might have been our final summer. I will cherish our days there.

We met with a neuropsychologist and left the meeting feeling validated and positive. In our many attempts to support our differently wired kiddo, this is one of few experiences to which I can put those words. 

It rained. We live in drought-stricken California, so this gift from the skies was appreciated and celebrated. In fact, we headed to our favorite 'pond' for a rain walk and exploration, during which the kids were delighted by a single little duckling that raced about in the water, as if it had finally be let out to play, and curious little salamander.

This week has felt like an out-breath after holding my breath for far too long. It felt like steps toward thriving (my word for 2021).