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The taste of sadness

"She refused to taste sadness, even when that was the only thing she had left to eat." i.k.

What a beautiful string of words!

Today, I promised to write a post about someone else's life...because I'm sick of mine.

Yesterday, just as it has been for the past four days, was hard.  I'm just caught up in this very strange and useless place of feeling too much or nothing at all.

So...last night, in an effort to get it together for this week of Thanksgiving, we rallied.  It really should be a week we realize and express gratitude for our rich blessings.  There is always something to be thankful for.


Sam and I put together some blessing bags of treats for my visiting teaching sisters and some of the people in my life going through difficult things.  Shelbie is still pretty sick but there's nothing like a little fresh air to help the spirit so we packed her in the car too.

I could feel the sting of this month subside as Sam and I visited with my friend whose husband passed away two weeks ago while I was there cleaning.  Sam loves these people and they treat him like he is the best thing in the world and in return, he enjoys helping them with things around the house.  She was having fun with Sam last night and put him to task on something for the next couple of days.  I love seeing Sam's eyes light up with the opportunities to serve.

The last place we went was to our homeless friend May.  Technically, she has been in her apartment for almost a full year!  I am so proud of her and so happy that she has chosen to stay there instead of living in her car like she has done for decades!  It's nice to have her close by.  Before, she was always on the road and I couldn't see her as often as I wanted to. Shelbie came up with us to drop off the treats but Sam had to hold her up all the way to the third floor of the building.

As May opened her door, there in the tiny kitchen was her tricycle.  It was filled with her stuff, just like every corner of her room is. She apologized for the snow and mud dripping from the tires and explained that her van broke down two weeks ago, so she resorted to riding this tricycle to get groceries and go to the library...which also broke down yesterday!  The frame fell apart so she pushed it to a shop to get welded.

In her telling of these stories, there was not one ounce of complaint. Not one ounce of upset, sadness, aggravation, frustration.  She was happy.  She is alone, not a stitch of family and no friends to speak of except when we visit.  She is aging and achy.  She has very little food but she is thrilled to have a can of sardines she found on sale at the dollar store. She can go into great detail about how delicious her meager meal was.  She has more reasons than anyone I know of, to be sad...

But- "She refused to taste sadness, even when that was the only thing she had left to eat."

I wish I could be more like her.  I wish that when my car broke down, I would cheerfully jump on my old bike, even in the dead of winter to grab some sardines from the dollar store and savor them with a healthy dash of gratitude, yet, at times, it seems sadness is all I taste.  Sadness is served up like a buffet without noticing that there are other choices to make, things to taste besides that bitter serving of all you can eat...should you choose.


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