Crummy lungs and cozy socks

It’s currently Friday afternoon and I’m spending my 2nd full day in the Covid ward at the hospital. I caught Covid some time in the past week or two. But after battling with it for a for about a week, I ended up with bilateral pneumonia, meaning I had fluid in both of my lungs.

I am on the mend thankfully. I have had a plethora of lovely friends and family by my side (not literally unfortunately) assisting me and helping out with my kids. It always warms my heart and makes me so happy and grateful to recognize all the fantastic people who have shown up during this time I’ve been sick, even before I ended up in the hospital. Friends, family, co-workers, and even online friends have come to inquire about my health and I’m grateful. Never again in my life will I take for granted how freaking amazing these people are. And not to mention the amazing staff here at Memorial Miramar.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a post. But aside from Covid, there’s not a lot of stuff I could of included without making my blog sound like a diary post.

“Dear Diary, didn’t do to dishes again....”

Mundane.

But I am sitting alone in a hospital bed, with thoughts dancing around like dust motes so I figured, why not?

I guess the thing Id like to talk about is my attempts to not have a mediocre life.

I don’t think of myself as a mediocre gal. I’m very social and open and I have an appetite for life. And I feel like I’ve kind of always been this way. When I was married, I feel like I had to tone myself down. Become less because of that role. I was a wife. A mom. A person with an adult job. And house. Responsibilities. A avid church goer. Obviously didn’t work out in my favor to tone down anything, so now my way of thinking is, I’ll do me, you’ll adjust. I don’t think I’m unbearable. I don’t think I’m tooooo obnoxious, Lord know I can be though. I’m smart. Capable. Friendly. And most of all, I’m loving. I love my life. My kids. My friends. My family. My job. My house. I love my church. My routines. My relationships.

Things that may of been there the whole time but my whole life was twisted.

And now it ain’t.

There’s wind in my sails.

Guys, I don’t want to live a mediocre life! It honestly makes me sad that I spent so much time living in a small way. But I don’t want that for me. Or for my kids. I think life has so much greatness to offer and I want to soak it all up. Even sitting here in this hospital bed, I can feel a fire in my stomach of a life just waiting. Pawing the ground at the starting gate, biting at the bit, waiting for the gates to open, to spring forth and run so fast that with wind pulls tears from my eyes.

I want to open the sails and let the wind catch it and carry me off to places known and unknown. To reach down and feel wild water on my skin, and lick the salt from my fingers. To have pink skin from too much sun. To just go out and be. Live. Prosper. See. Be in awe. Live in wonder. Soak up the goodness of God and the great life and person who he has instilled in my heart to be. To laugh with half empty wine glasses and blurry pics on my phone screen. And stories to tell. And things to marvel at. And warm hugs and kisses from my kids. To live a life with them so when they grow, the can grow with the satisfaction that their mom loved them so much and it’s one less thing for them to have to struggle with as an adult. For them to go out into the world with the knowledge that Jesus has a purpose for their life and they don’t have to conform to the patterns of this world.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how I’ve been accomplishing this. But I’ll try.

It’s effort.

Plain and simple.

I call. Text mostly. I have made myself slightly obnoxious. I’m sorry for all of you who have been privy to my constant social outreach but not that sorry cause I’m not stopping. :)

I’m love making new friends. I love having new conversations. I love having old friends and having old/plain conversations. So we get coffee. And margaritas. Make cookies. Or drink champagne. And eat chocolate. And send memes. And play top golf. Or pool. We gossip. Send updates or discuss new men, old men, bad days, good days, Covid days (like right now). And I know it sounds easy. Or maybe for you it doesn’t. But you know what it does do?

It Works.

My life is enriched. It feels better. So, even when Im stuck in this hospital bed, no visitors allowed, I’m not sad. Number one, I never sit still. So being forced to have to it kind of nice.

But number two, I know that I have this large, heavy chunk of life to grasp and hold on to when I leave here. The clump of goodness for me to carrry and grip and squish through my hands like mud. To see the evidence of it under my finger nails and in between the crevices and lines on my fingers and the webbing between them...thats my life. It’s isnt dry or hard and unmolding and crumbling. Its not looking back on what “used to be good”. Im living the good life. Right now. It’s wonderful and fun and squishy and messy and constantly changing and molding to best shape me!

There’s be a lot of things that have happened that could of derailed me. And to be honest, they did. Divorce, hello, worst thing ever. But just adjusting to life as a single mom and recent divorcee was hard. Then trying to get my kids to do well in school. Still struggling with that. Then I broke my elbow. Then I had to have my very own single Christmas. Then my co-worker passed. And now I have Covid.

And I’m not one of those people people that says “everything happens for a reason”. Cause I don’t think it’s true.

True, something may. But not everything. It’s not my job to navigate why my marriage failed anymore. It failed. I’m divorced and I have become a better person because of that trauma. It’s my job to make sure that I’m happy with the person I am now and to hopefully never ever relive or remake the mistakes of that dumpster fire lol.

It’s my job to raise good people. To love them and care for them and ensure that they grown to be God fearing, fantastic adults.

It’s my job to live a life that when I look in the mirror at night, I don’t cast my eyes to the side in shame or embarrassment. I mean to lean in and say “Dang, another wrinkle!?”

Then curse and moan my way to bed but still smile because after everything I’ve been though, my life is still good.

Wrinkles and all.