Yesterday, Maria, my fellow mito warrior and I sat down with a bottle of wine and talked about grief.

No one wants to talk about grief.

Grief is sad and loss is heartbreaking.

But for those of us who navigate a life with loss, it is a part of our world…..a world we don’t always talk about.

Because grief is sad and loss is heartbreaking.

But talking about grief with this lady feels as natural as talking about the weather.

You can find our chat here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sq3ZmHpGmss&t=172s

This year I am the Queen of unfinished projects.

Guitar? Cant play a cord.

Knitted sweater? It might be a scarf? Someday?

Delights project. HA! That is funny.

I have not posted a delight in two months. I have thought of this space often. I have thought of writing often. I have tried to process so many thoughts……..

But I must admit it, my headspace was full. I underestimated the energy it would take to leave a job after 15 years and start at a new company. It has been a wonderful, gratifying process but it required attention and headspace.

I thought I could write the morning of March 23rd as I drove into Boulder- the morning after the King Soopers shooting.

I thought I could write on March 29th when the Derek Chauvin trial started……perhaps address the trauma I felt when hearing testimony…..and the trauma many of us felt.

I could not write. It took too much energy to put emotion into words.

So I did not put anything into words. I processed. Embraced my therapist. Embraced my family. My friends. Swam. Skied. Cried.

I missed this space but not the energy it required. Alas…..I was a bit tapped.

Let your knitted sweater go. The very best project you can focus on? You.

This Little Ladies 90-year old heart is feeling a little tired. A tired heart at 90 lands you a couple nights in the hospital. A tired heart requires a visit in the hospital. Gratefully, Colorado opened up COVID restrictions TODAY and I was able to spend this afternoon with Granny and my Mama in the Cardiology Unit.

I make absolutely no qualms about how lucky I am to still have my Granny in my life. As I grow older, this time becomes a precious gift; her stories, her naughty sense of humor and grandparent love……

Grandparent love is pretty awesome. Grandkids really cannot do ANY wrong in the eyes of a grandparent. Imagine still having that carte’ blanc at 50. It is a delightful gift.

I am grateful that she is getting the best care tonight. That albeit tired, she is still able to banter with the nurses in a way that still makes her granddaughter blush (for those who know me, you KNOW this is a feat).

And I am delighted this precious gift is a part of my life.

It was COLD this weekend. Nose hair freezing cold.

We really didn’t have to go anywhere.

So we didn’t.

It was so cold they closed the pool! Was I really going to swim this weekend? Nah, probably not.

So instead, I made lemon cream scones and cleaned out the guest room.

On Saturday, we woke up at 6:00, looked around, decided it was still cold and went back to sleep.

I have not removed my fuzzy slippers from my feet in 48 hours. Oh you can judge; but you know what my toes are? My toes are stinky. And they are also delighted.

I made chocolate covered strawberries to honor the Day of Valentines. No cards will be exchanged, no heart shaped chocolate boxes or flowers.

Maybe just the acknowledgement that a cold weekend in fuzzy slippers is the best Valentine’s weekend.

I do realize we are day 44 into the new year and I am on day 24 of my Delights. In fact, the last time I posted something delightful was 10 DAYS AGO!!!!

This is not to say I have not been delighted or found my daily delights. It is to say however, that I’ve been a bit distracted and my distraction took a bit more energy than I thought it would.

I have started a new job.

That seems silly right? Because my last job was great and I love the people and I love my clients so why???? WHY? WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYY? Change jobs? Why change jobs during a pandemic when the economy is in the crapper and you have stable employment at a good job?

I have no answers to the why.

But I do know that sometimes you have to do something different. Sometimes you have to take a risk, learn something new, stretch yourself a little further than you have been stretched.

Stretching is hard. Change is hard. Taking a risk is risky.

I used to be much better at change and risk. At 22, I jumped on a plane a flew to Germany with the determination to move there for a bit and become a ski instructor. I cried the whole way to Munich and wondered what the hell I was thinking. But you know what? I got that job. I taught skiing three years and inhaled the world. That time changed my life.

At 30, I took a job consulting that meant I got on a plane every Sunday afternoon and flew to New York to work for one of the largest media companies. The Bertelsmann building on Times Square was the most magnificent building I had ever seen….and I worked there…..on Times Square. I showed up on my first day delightfully over my head.

I got married. I had babies. Surprisingly, the things I had always wanted most were the most risky. Motherhood has been the riskiest, most rewarding chapter in my life. Would I change anything? Never.

This summer my nephews went off the high dive for the first time. Watching them climb that ladder was absolutely terrifying. They stood at the edge of the board; little arms flapping as they bounced. I treaded water below them clapping and encouraging- trying to hide my own anxiety. With one move, they jumped and submerged themselves into the deep end of the pool.

And they popped up. Grinned. Not your regular grin but the ‘I took a risk and it was awesome grin.‘

To jumping in the deep end. To taking a risk. And a bit of a stretch.

Ah. How funny that when I typed the word Friends, I felt my body relax a bit? Ah, Friends. Friends are good. Friends are Delightful.

A friends’ daughter once told her mom that she hopes she has a group of women like her mom when she is older. That was the best compliment ever. And I hope she does.

One of the best things about getting older is getting older with my friends and watching them become super cool adults…..wonky adults with their own sense of style but fabulous none the less. We carry a precious, sacred history and now a deep seated knowledge that we are all here for the long haul. We may have bonded over $2.00 beers and frat parties….been pissy because someone kissed someone else’s love interest but as life evolves, when the poop hits the fan and becomes real; complicated, hard and at times heartbreaking, the bond solidifies.

My friendships bring me delight.

Thank you for making my life delightful.

I love this. It delights me. Go Pandas go.

I think about this Delight project a lot. I go through the day eyeing my delights, thinking about the topic. Many times writing about the big important things; the benchmarks to who am, tend to overwhelm me and I know will take time to compose. The fun about Delights is that the topic just hits me out of the blue.

My dear lovely tribe enveloped me with flowers for my birthday. My goodness it was fabulous! Boxes of beautiful blooms delivered down the long driveway of the 20. I was in heaven.

Two weeks later, some of my roses are sad and my daisies are a little puny. Some would throw the whole arrangement out but I cannot. Somewhere in that slightly stinky, once beautiful arrangement, is an alstroemeria bloom yelling, “I’m not dead yet!”

My most favorite place in the grocery store is the cart of flowers in the florist section that are past their expiration date- a dozen roses can go for $4. Sunflowers that might not be so sunny….$2! When I am feeling a little splurgy, I grab several past-their-prime bouquets at the grocery store and set them next to the angel hair pasta.

There are little gems- a gerbera daisy in full bloom, tea roses that are still fresh, sunflowers that have quite a lot of rays.

And a new arrangement now sits on our table….delightful

Thursday is trash day. Trash Day is usually not a big deal but sometimes on the 20, little things take on a bigger meaning. It’s about 1/4 of a mile from our house to where the trash truck meets us therefore trash day requires a little preplanning, not a lot but a little reminder the night before….tomorrow is trash day.

The trash truck usually arrives at 6:59 Thursday morning…..on the dot.

My delight is not really about the trash guy, although he does seem like a nice, very prompt person and I really, really appreciate him carting off my garbage,

But sky. The sky at 6:59 in the morning. Delightful.

The moon was setting in the West, bidding adieu to another night.

But to the East!

This symphony of color lasted only minutes. Soon the yellows, reds and glorious pinks had faded, the rooster next door starting crowing and a new day started.

And while the world woke up, the trash man kindly took my bin, gave me a nod and moved onto the next house.

Delightful.

This year the snow has been scarce. Given that Colorado relies on a good snowpack for our water, it’s concerning. But this post is not about concern. This post is about delight.

It snowed today and is still snowing on the 20. I love the monochrome of winter; white snow, brown bare branches, white steamy breath; beauty in naked simplicity.

It is cold and snowing.

It is time for a swim.

I stand on deck and take off my swim coat, fuzzy fleece pants and winter hat. Last to go are the furry slippers. I love those furry slippers. Without them, my bare feet stand in an inch of snow; reminding me to hurry up. I jump. In an instant, I go from dry and cold to submerged.

The water is a balmy 81. Its warm but not toasty. I have to move.

By the third lap, I have warmed up. My feet are no longer yelling at me. My arms go from cool to warm with every stroke. Snowflakes gather on my swim cap. I cannot see the other side of the pool through the foggy steam.

Why do I love this so much? It’s kinda nuts.

I do believe it is the thrill of being so vulnerable. Standing in a snowstorm in a swim suit or worse, convincing soaked Heather to get out of the pool in 21 degree weather.

Perhaps its more than that- the thrill of being slightly uncomfortable in the elements when we are so confined to our own indoors right now. It might be the very simple silence- me and my thoughts and my breath.

No matter. It is delightful. Hello Day 19.