Communicating with my grandparents as they got older became challenging due to hearing loss. Communicating via technology was a whole new experience with them. During covid we began regular Sunday Facetime calls since my parents and sister were at their house for church and lunch. One Sunday we were ending the video call and I waved to my Grandpa and told him to have a good day to which he replied back with a big smile and wave “Happy Good Day!” It’s one of my favorite memories now. Pure innocence. Pure happiness. And a good reflection of his jovial spirit that he didn’t even question if that is what I had actually said to him. That is what he heard and that is what he repeated back to me in all sincerity.
Once in May, the temperature was in the balmy low 80s. The humidity was high. I’d made three trips up 2 flights of stairs with refreshments and supplies for a financial seminar my boss is putting on at the local college before jumping into my car to head across the state for a marketing workshop the next day. You can imagine I was a little sweaty in my navy blue dress pants, heels and navy and maroon floral top. That only became a problem when I realized the morning of the workshop that I had forgotten my clothes for the workshop. I had my undergarments, black pants and black shoes but no matching top. Luckily I had remembered all of my toiletries so showering and freshening up wasn’t a problem. And luckily the temperature dropped drastically to 50 degrees so staying fresh (ish. I was still in day old clothes) wasn’t impossible. The workshop ended. I don’t think anyone noticed or smelled me. I rushed home Friday evening because I had a half marathon the next morning. I had a bottle of Mountain Dew and a pack of M&M’s (snack of running champions the world over) and I was making good time… until I hit a deer. Not a happy good day.
Once in March, the temperature was FREEZING. My husband invited me to go camping. I was still in a newlywed loving state of bliss and accepted thinking this would be a good idea. Matt, Julie, and I (read 3 people) are huddled in a two-man tent. Late in the night I heard an animal sniffing around our tent. I then heard an animal being viciously attacked and killed by whatever was sniffing around our tent. I then heard the dead animal being drug away through the woods. I woke Matt up to tell him something had just died right outside of our tent to which he replied, “stuff dies in the woods all the time” and continued snoring. (The next morning when I confronted him about it, he said he didn’t realize I was scared (because I regularly wake him up to chat at 3 A.M.?)) After a night of very little and very poor sleep beside my husband sawing logs, I got out of the tent as soon as the dawn cracked and sat by the remnant of the fire until he woke up. I was packed and ready to go when he did. Not a happy good day.
Last July some friends were coming to visit. My husband and I were cleaning up around the house the night before they were to arrive. It was your typical hot and sticky southern summer night. Matt had been smelling something for a day or two but wasn’t sure what it was. That night around 11 P.M. he decided to see if it was coming from our deep freezer. It was in that moment that he opened the freezer that we realized I had accidentally unplugged it… a week ago. The smells were released and could not be contained. The flies came from… wherever flies come from. I had a decision to make. I could either put the meat in our trash can and set it by the road for a week until our trash came again. Or I could take it to my office early in the morning since our trash was running that same day. I decided that would be the least offensive option so I found myself at 5 A.M face deep in rotten, slimy, spoiled meat. I was a bagging and gagging machine as I loaded up my first bags into the truck and went to work. I had googled the trash route and learned that they began at 6:30 A.M. so I dropped my first load at 5:45 A.M. and rushed back home for the rest. There was more bagging and gagging but I won’t give you more details than that. I made it downtown with my final load at 6:15… the trash had already come. I learned that the city dump opened at 7 so I went there to pay (yes I”m paying money to dispose of the meat I paid for and let rot. I can’t get into all of the ways this event left me sick) and drop my final load. (Sidenote: As I was waiting for the dump to open I noticed that the area looked like the places they find the dead bodies on Dateline episodes. I thought I should probably tell Matt where I was in case something happened, but when I reached for my phone I realized I was the one with (deer) blood smears all over me and flies swarming around a heavy double bagged black trash bag in the back. I decided I was fine). I got rid of my load and made it home in time to help Matt wash out and clean the deep freezer and ended up only being 10 minutes late to work. NOT a happy good day. (It was when our friends got there, though. Just not before).
I was home last February for the memorial service for my grandparents. Just before people started coming through for the visitation my mom went into director mode and started repositioning the family to receive everyone.She moved us around 3 or 4 times and we all complied. We ended up exactly where we were when she started. When she walked away we had a good laugh about it. Somewhere between her configuring us and when people actually started coming through the line I actually got separated from the entire rest of my family and was receiving people alone. Another opportunity for a laugh. But beyond those specific moments- you can imagine it was not a happy good day for a girl who thought her grandparents hung the moon and had been blessed with 31 years with them.
My point is this. Days can be bad. Days can be sad. Memories can be bittersweet. But they can also bring humor. It all depends on the perspective through which you choose to view your life. I bet you laughed or at least smiled through one or all of those stories. I certainly was not smiling as they were happening to me. My dad always says that “the worse something is when you are going through it, the funnier it is to talk about it later.” My family should know. We have plenty of stories like the ones above. He also taught us that if we go into something we don't want to do with a bad attitude then we definitely won't have a good time, but if we approach it with a more positive attitude then we just might enjoy ourselves. And usually we did. If your day is going horribly wrong- you may not see it yet but there will likely be a silver lining. We’ve all probably heard the saying “Did you have a bad day or did you have a bad 5 minutes that you let ruin your day?” I’m guilty far too often of letting a bad 5 minutes ruin my day. Then later I look back and remember the story or the moment very differently because my perspective has shifted.
Please do not think that I am saying that if a loved one dies, or you lose a job or you find yourself in a similar very serious situation that you should just choose to be happy. I am very aware that is not the way it works nor do I think it is healthy to approach life through that lens. I’m merely trying to give you a light at the end of the tunnel when things aren’t going your way one day. A little extra boost of endurance to make it through. And maybe if you’re lucky a subtle reminder that will help you shift your perspective before you’ve let the day be ruined for good.
Comments