Day 114 - Things I love

“Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”
~Kevin Arnold~

(Thank you mama-face you created your own mini-meme)

Today I'm thankful for love.
(in no particular order of course :)

I love my husband. Not in the "I'm a wife and I'm obliged to say it" kinda way, but in the "we've been through hell and back, I used to loath you, but now I can't breathe without you" kinda way. He is by far, my favorite human on the planet. I love him in a way young people can't understand. It's deep and it's wide and it's breathtakingly beautiful. I don't need him to live. I could live without him. I choose not too.

I love the women I gave birth to. They are not MY children, they never were. They do not belong to me but belong to the world at large and to themselves. I used to call them my Angles. I still do occasionally, but they aren't. They are much more than that. They struggle and they fall but they get back up. I am profoundly grateful I was allowed to raise them, I am completely in love with them, and I am proud of them. The Queen, the Redbird and the Pixie are no more. (OK, I'm keeping the pixie a little longer) Lisa, Kelly and June are their names and my love for them knows no bounds.

I love the state of Florida. It is the only place I've ever felt home. I've written about my love for my state ad nauseum so I'll just leave it at that.

I love my slice of paradise. My humble abode, aka Where the Wild things Are. Like my state, I can hardly go a week without writing about it so I'll just move on.

I love my church. The Church at Argyle has been wounded but not mortally so. It will go on. This church and in particular, our pastor, has taught me true faith. It is progressive in it's thinking, it is relaxed in it's rules and it is all about a true relationship with Jesus Christ and not about religion. God sent this wounded Taoist to this church to be resorted.

I love words. I struggle with words. Have all my life. I am a dyslexic and words have never come easy to me. I firmly believe that my dyslexia is a gift. That my struggle with words has given them great value and meaning in my life that goes beyond passion to a calling. I don't claim to be a good writer, but I am a writer. Writing heals me and makes me whole. It is my coping mechanism. Reading transports me. When I read a movie plays in my head and I am enveloped in it. I used to read A LOT but not so much anymore. I spend way more time writing. Either way I'm a happy camper when I'm sunk deep in a word pit.

I love taking photographs. I've been told I have an eye and I do note that I have new vision. Honestly, I don't think I'm all that good. I see photographs like these and I know I'll never be a pro but I'm OK with that. The joy I get from framing a photo, the excitement I get when I pull them off the card and into the computer, the creative buzz I get editing them, and the "Look what I did" kinda little kid joy I get from sharing them is priceless. My writing and my vision are my gifts from God. They are my talents and how I'm meant to serve. They are mediocre at best but they are mine and my 17 stalkers seem to enjoy them. That's enough for me.

I love my kindred spirits. The other human beings out there in the wide universe that not just gets me, but ARE me. That feeling of being less alone, less unique, less misunderstood is priceless. I also find it incredibly interesting that my kindred spirits are virtual strangers. That's just so....Me. Consider this a shout out to my Universe sisters. "Halla girlfriends!"

I love my parents. If you wonder why I'm an odd duck you have but to look to my parents. They are the oddest combination you could imagine, they fight like cats and dogs, they are polar opposites yet they love each other with an intensity that is reserved for planets going supernova. My father saying "Oh Bonnie, shut up" and my mother saying "Ed! Slow down!" then my father sitting in his chair just watching my mother move about the kitchen not saying a word. The look on his face saying it all. My mother getting frantic when Dad is 15 minutes late getting home or her standing on her tippy toes with that little girl smile on her face to kiss him. They set a mighty example for me to follow. 49 years this August. Wow, just....Wow.

I love my job. Seriously, being a maintenance superhero to the freaks of Jacksonville Proper is an honor and a privilege. Sure, my job is stressful at times and most times it's thankless, BUT when you get that one freak that says "Thank you so much! You're my hero!" it makes it all worth it. The fact that I have the 2 greatest bosses in existence, who always have my back, always SHOW me how much I'm appreciated and who are just plain good people is an incredible blessing. Not to mention the cool purple cape and yellow sharpie accessories. I mean come on, I may be a superhero, but I'm still a girl. I'm all up on those accessories dude. I am one lucky superhero.

I love music. When I was 15 I was convinced I had a voice just like Karen Carpenters. I was going to be a big star and all those that thought I was to fat and ugly too amount too anything would be sorry. I was going to show them! I was obsessed with all things music. I amassed a HUGE collection of 45's and LP's and spent hours and hours and hours of my sad and solo puberty listening to, memorizing and singing my collection. I remember one particularly painful night my mother came into my room and told me to quit strangling the cat. Humph! You don't know music MOTHER! This was UNTIL I got the bright idea to record and listen to, my own voice. Oh. My. Dog! My mother was right. I was strangling cats. I was now 21, divorced and with 1 kid. I had invested my entire life believing I would be a singing sensation. The realization that I sucked broke me. I HATED music for a good 15 years and I was convinced God had not kept his promise to give me a "gift". It was one of the many reasons I abandoned my faith for more than 20 years. Now, I enjoy music for the sake of music. I adore how it can lift me, change my mood, make me think, and take me to places I've never been. I can get lost in music like I can get lost in a book. Only now, when I'm found, I enjoy where I am.

Then there are all the small things. Little things I love that make my world sweeter. My little alien hamster Roy, my shiny red mustang, my hot pink iPod, my ancient digital camera, my little list of gratitude, my treadmill, flowers and skies and water oh my! So many little things I love but today's list is long enough. I see a sequel in my future.

Let's face it. The best things in life ARE free.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6raAdR-1s0o