For Christmas, I received a timely bracelet (from my mother, oddly enough) that says, 'Find the Good,' and since the day I have put it on I have tried to find the good in every day.
As some of you who follow my blog know, my mom passed earlier this month, and to say the experience has been jarring for both my father and me, would be an understatement. Still, we get up, make breakfast, do laundry, make dinner, and have even made it work a few times. We are doing all we know how to do, and really all we can, to get by.
-I say 'we' because I've moved back into my parent's house for the time being, for the aforementioned reason of the difficult passing.
There have even been a few times we've made it out and about to the local grocery store for some necessities. Which is what spurred the inspiration for this blog post.
The week mom passed since mom wasn't feeling well, and my father and I made a point to bring her a bouquet of flowers. Carnations, because they will last longer.
As I lament now, I realize it was a sentiment she didn't get to ever really enjoy, as she passed just two days later.
That being said, the kitchen table has not been without flowers since that day we brought some home for her. -I suspect it will be a while before it goes without.
After a 50-mile drive to the nearest Safeway, the closest grocery store with fresh flowers, or fresh anything really. My father and I were set on getting some fresh flowers for the house.
The search is on
In true 'Ciesielski' fashion, we begin to tag-team the shopping list.
I head right for the flower department, as my father takes off to the bakery in search of fresh doughnuts. Roses, of every color and shape, jump out at me as if Crayola sent each petal right from the crayon factory.
My dad's voice echoes in my head from weeks ago when we bought mom's carnations; 'if the heads of the flowers are too heavy they will droop'. I turn away from the roses entirely. Mom never bought roses for her table; they weren't colorful enough for most occasions, and the droop factor.
Maybe some daisies; something bright and 'springy', as mom would say. People in the small town grocery store banter as I carefully eye each flower. Sizing up its potential to bloom, like mom always did.
"Have a good day," a man calls to a woman on his way out of the door after their brief exchange.
"I don't have good days, all I have are days," her reply instantly sours the small smile I had managed to force all morning.
"I haven't had a good day in years" she adds later with a light laugh, looking directly at me. Perhaps in an effort to drag me into her misery.
You want to talk about bad days?
In any case, I could feel the anger rising below the surface of my skin as I quickly grabbed a bouquet of tulips. Completely overlooking the 'droop factor' in my haste to escape the situation.
Here I am, picking out a bouquet of flowers for my widower father; some effort to hold onto something that mom would have loved. At the same moment, this lady traipses through the store like having a bad day is a badge of honor or a cute quip.
It isn't cute to the people who are really struggling.
It isn't appealing to the people who aren't.
Bottom line, if you are having that bad of a day, you shouldn't be projecting that into the general public.
Furthermore, if your years continue to be that bad, you should do something different with your life. I'm not saying you should bottle up your bad days, but you really shouldn't be sprinkling it like misery glitter from your pixie dust grab-bag.
Even after I just lost my mom, when people tell me to have a good day, I still muster a positive response: I have to. I have to find the good in every day or life will break me.
You should be striving for a good day, every day.
Otherwise, what's the point?
So, I challenge you guys to do that every day; do your best to have a good day.
Find the good.