I’ve been able to see things in a new light the last couple of weeks.  Most of it was fueled by a nice visit to Hillsboro, IL, a small rural town between Springfield and St. Louis where my grandma lived.  She passed away last summer but the family is in the process of selling her house.  It was a nice girls weekend with my aunt, Kate, and me and gave me peaceful closure being there one last time.

Things are always a slower pace when you’re back in Hillsboro.  There is a simpleness to the town but people seem happy, know their neighbors, and you never get the sense that they feel like they’re missing out on all the grandiose things that a large urban city like Chicago brings.  Being there always provides a much needed relief from the hustle bustle of everyday life.  There is also a comfort that I experience when I’m there, sort of a home away from home.  Given the weeks leading up to the visit, I was certainly looking forward to having a few days away from work and some down time to really evaluate life – to sort through all the various thoughts I’ve been feeling about where I’m ‘stuck’ or unhappy.

It was also a time to remember my grandma and how grateful she always was for whatever life brought her.  I admire her tremendously for her strength as a woman.  She had parents who were divorced at a time when couples rarely did.  Her mother worked in a different city, and she was largely raised by her own grandmother.  She was old, for the times, when she had my dad and aunt over the age of 30 after 2 miscarriages.  My grandpa passed at age 64.  She passed just shy of 97.  She never remarried and lived life to the fullest despite how much she missed him.  Although I was too young to remember my grandpa vividly, I always know he was a special man.  My grandma spoke of my grandpa just as fondly at 96 as she did when they first got married.  She always said she never had much but she always felt blessed by what she did have.

Last week, I was watching a show on TLC about a family who had conjoined twins.  Since birth, they’ve been attached at the tops of their heads.  It was quite mind-blowing to see what these girls could do as well as how loved and accepted they were by their family and the community.  What was a real reality check was listening to the mother talk about the girls the night before their 5th birthday, emotionally remembering how the doctors first said the girls would not live past 24 hours, then a week, then a month, and so on and so forth.  And here they are, defeating the odds and celebrating five years of life.

It takes these experiences to remember to be grateful for the things we do have in our lives and more importantly, the people who are part of them.  Dean may never know what it’s like to taste real Chicago-style pizza, lick cold ice cream on a hot summer day, or crack peanuts at a baseball game, but he won’t know any different.  I’ll bet he’ll be grateful for the things he is able to enjoy: mouthwatering watermelon at a family picnic, cold popsicles that ease the heat, and sticky bbq chicken wings on football Sunday.

I, myself, need to remember how grateful we are for having Mr. Dean in our lives.  Seeing those conjoined twins, how happy they are and how blessed their parents feel despite the challenges they face made me realize how quite minimal ours are.  Of course, there are still going to be times when it’s rough, emotional, or filled with worry but for right now, I’m going to enjoy this sense of calmness and just feel blessed.