Kristen Ashley's Blog - Posts Tagged "gratitude"
Gratitude
Recently, I read an issue of Oprah Magazine, and after I beat back that little green monster of how jealous I am they keep coming up with such great ideas, I decided to steal one.
That being their series of essays in their Gratitude Issue. These short ditties packed a massive punch to the point I was sitting on a plane reading them and fighting the need to burst into sobs.
I’ll just say, specifically, the essay written by the woman who expressed her gratitude to her baby daughter’s hand. This was somewhat confusing until she explained, at birth, that baby daughter had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, with that little hand shoved between it and her windpipe, giving her room to breathe. And if that hand hadn’t been there, well…
Yeah, now you see why I was fighting the need to burst into sobs.
I thought about this and all the other essays in the magazine, some of which were about crappy things that led to good things. About how we should view gratitude in a variety of different ways. And how, in doing so, we can learn to appreciate the trials and tribulations of life because they lead us to, or prepare us for, the joys and celebrations.
So I decided to do this. To think of something that happened, and what happened because of it being something I will eternally be grateful for.
And now I share this with you.
Dear College Roommate…
I won’t share in detail how you were a thoughtless roommate. I won’t share the depths that sunk to and how they made me feel. Precisely how deeply it stung, your disregard for my feelings, my home away from home, my supposed safe place.
Because if you’d been cool, I might not have needed to spend every moment I could in Kelly’s room.
Kelly. The girl from a million miles away who lived down the hall. The girl I’d just met. The girl whose parents lived in another country, so she had no place to spend Thanksgiving, so she came to our house. The girl who adopted me as her sister. The girl who I adopted as mine. The girl my family adopted as one of our own. The girl whose family means so much to me, I wrote them as characters in one of my books.
The girl who traveled half the earth to come to my wedding.
The girl I traveled half the earth to go to hers.
The girl who named her daughter after me.
The girl who moved heaven and earth to be with us at our mother’s memorial service. The girl who cuddled in the big red chair at my sister’s house with my brother, who was lost and wounded after a lifetime of taking care of “his girls”—his mother and his sisters. But now that mother was gone, he had no control over that, and it was like he didn’t know how to move his limbs because one of them had been shorn off and the rest didn’t work right.
But he had one of his girls right there, cuddled next to him, and she gave him strength. She made him smile. She gave him peace.
The girl who I took many road trips with…and still do, even though she lives on another continent. The girl who understands why shouting, “MEDIC!” is one of the most hilarious things in the world. The girl who took me to a cave in the depths of the mountains of Venezuela, a cave filled with bats, and we somehow made that insanity a good time. The girl who had traveled the world, and by sharing her history and family with me, opened up mine exponentially.
The girl who I met who, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be me.
So, thank you, college roommate.
You gave me Kelly.
And for that, I am eternally grateful.
That being their series of essays in their Gratitude Issue. These short ditties packed a massive punch to the point I was sitting on a plane reading them and fighting the need to burst into sobs.
I’ll just say, specifically, the essay written by the woman who expressed her gratitude to her baby daughter’s hand. This was somewhat confusing until she explained, at birth, that baby daughter had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, with that little hand shoved between it and her windpipe, giving her room to breathe. And if that hand hadn’t been there, well…
Yeah, now you see why I was fighting the need to burst into sobs.
I thought about this and all the other essays in the magazine, some of which were about crappy things that led to good things. About how we should view gratitude in a variety of different ways. And how, in doing so, we can learn to appreciate the trials and tribulations of life because they lead us to, or prepare us for, the joys and celebrations.
So I decided to do this. To think of something that happened, and what happened because of it being something I will eternally be grateful for.
And now I share this with you.
Dear College Roommate…
I won’t share in detail how you were a thoughtless roommate. I won’t share the depths that sunk to and how they made me feel. Precisely how deeply it stung, your disregard for my feelings, my home away from home, my supposed safe place.
Because if you’d been cool, I might not have needed to spend every moment I could in Kelly’s room.
Kelly. The girl from a million miles away who lived down the hall. The girl I’d just met. The girl whose parents lived in another country, so she had no place to spend Thanksgiving, so she came to our house. The girl who adopted me as her sister. The girl who I adopted as mine. The girl my family adopted as one of our own. The girl whose family means so much to me, I wrote them as characters in one of my books.
The girl who traveled half the earth to come to my wedding.
The girl I traveled half the earth to go to hers.
The girl who named her daughter after me.
The girl who moved heaven and earth to be with us at our mother’s memorial service. The girl who cuddled in the big red chair at my sister’s house with my brother, who was lost and wounded after a lifetime of taking care of “his girls”—his mother and his sisters. But now that mother was gone, he had no control over that, and it was like he didn’t know how to move his limbs because one of them had been shorn off and the rest didn’t work right.
But he had one of his girls right there, cuddled next to him, and she gave him strength. She made him smile. She gave him peace.
The girl who I took many road trips with…and still do, even though she lives on another continent. The girl who understands why shouting, “MEDIC!” is one of the most hilarious things in the world. The girl who took me to a cave in the depths of the mountains of Venezuela, a cave filled with bats, and we somehow made that insanity a good time. The girl who had traveled the world, and by sharing her history and family with me, opened up mine exponentially.
The girl who I met who, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be me.
So, thank you, college roommate.
You gave me Kelly.
And for that, I am eternally grateful.
