Touches

Yesterday, I heard of a local family that is in the throes of an unthinkable tragedy.  All day (and I don't imagine that this feeling will go away any time soon), I was a little bit off.  Part of me is in absolute "heartbreak mode" for them and the other part of me is in absolute "take my breath away in fear mode" at the thought of losing a child. I have trouble even writing that.  There are truly no words for what they are living right now.  They are, and forever will be, broken.  This family will need (and will have) love and support from now until forever, I am sure. Their family and friends will be there for them - for when they need them, for when they don't need them, for when they think they don't need them and for every moment in between.

It made me think about the little touches in life that we live each day, each week, each month that we don't really think about.  Those little touches that truly affect us, in ways big and small, that we don't even realize. I'm not talking about the one and done touches and I'm also not talking about the huge, obvious life changing touches.  I'm talking about the day to day, week to week, repeat touches that we live over and over that are (seemingly) quite tiny compared to the other "bigger" things in our lives. But really when it comes right down to it, it's these little moments - these touches - that fill out our lives and get us from where we are to where we are going.  They happen so quickly, we often miss them. But without them, there'd be a lot of "life holes" to be filled.

I know that it's not always the biggest, loudest, earth-shattering, life-changing moments that touch our lives that have the most impact.
I know that it's not always the biggest, loudest, earth-shattering life-changing people that touch our lives that have the most impact.

I know that it's the little things that when put together, have a big, loud, earth-shattering, life-changing impact. Every day. 

And I also know that I will miss his little peeks around the doorway every Thursday afternoon.  I will miss his little footsteps racing down the hallway.

We may not have known him all that well.
But he touched us.  And we will miss his touches.

Ruff Ruff

If THIS had been the dog barking at me from its car as I got out of my car last night at Big Y, I would have thought that it was cute.  

I'd have giggled and continued on my merry way to buy my rolls, cucumbers and cheese.

But it wasn't that kind of dog. 

It was THIS kind of dog. 

(Well, I honestly don't know what kind of dog it was but it was surely more like THIS dog than THAT dog.)

I wouldn't have been so surprised or frightened as I closed my car door and it barked at me from a partially opened window, inches away.

I  wouldn't have nearly peed my pants or squealed like a 5 year old either.

I also wouldn't have thrown my brand new iphone 6 to the ground in surprise. 

And it wouldn't have shattered in to a gajillion pieces. 

But sadly, it was.
And I did.

Dammit.

Like,

Last night, a dear friend of mine, (I'll call him Pzoni - the "z" is silent - to protect his anonymity) suggested that I start a blog. I couldn't BELIEVE that he didn't know that I HAVE a blog.
How could he now KNOW this about me?

It made me wonder about all of the other things about me that he doesn't know.

Like, I am deathly afraid of not seeing my girls, their babies and their babies' babies grow up.
It sometimes keeps me awake at night.
Every night, I end my prayers with "let me see my children and grandchildren and my great-grandchildren laugh and play".

Like, I will eat anything once.  And more than likely I'll love it.

Like, I am obsessed with watching prison shows.
And probably because of this...

Like, I sleep with my old softball bat underneath our bed when Guy is away.

Like, in college, I saw Winger perform at some seedy club in Providence and I weasled my way to the front row.  I may or may not have grabbed Kip Winger's thigh while he was performing.   Shoot. - I can't remember what he said to me but he said something...I'll have to try to remember.  I was teased about it for months afterwards.

Like, Guy is the exact type of husband I pictured when I imagined who I'd marry. My imaginary husband, however, wasn't quite as much of a sports nut as the real one.  Go Pats!!

Like, when I eat a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, I am freakishly happy.  Happier than I should be, for sure.

Like, I regret every day that I stopped "really playing the piano" as soon as my senior recital was over.

Like, one of my favorite movies, by far, is "Mommy Dearest".  I'm not sure what that says about me.

Like, I ran my first marathon in 4:12 and my second in 4:07.  I am obsessed (especially on my runs) by the fact that I'm not training to shave off :07 in "one last marathon" to see if I could break four hours.  I recognize that this is stupid and I should either get over it or run another one.  Instead, I'll just write about it here.

Like, the minute I finish reading a book, I can't tell you a thing about it.  It's like I never read it.

Like, I can no longer watch "Ghost, or "The Outsiders" or "Dirty Dancing". It just makes me so sad that he is dead.

Like, when I make Guy laugh, I am always so proud of myself.  'Cuz I'm wicked funny.

Like, I would pack a bag right now and move us to Italy (Guy thinks I'm kidding but I'm totally serious) if we could pawn our house off on someone for six months.  You only live once.

Like, if I didn't have the job I have now (which I honestly can't imagine), I would love to be an interior decorator.  I wouldn't be good at it, I don't think, but that's what I'd want to be.

Like, I seem really nice and kind.  And I am.  But not always.

Like, I'm starving. So, The End.