Yesterday morning when I headed out for farm chores I still had a fever.
But Pete was more sick than me, so I was on.
As I moved my body down the driveway through the cold winter air toward the barn, I felt... not sick but thankful.
Thankful to be back on my feet.
Thankful for the feel of the cold air on my face.
Thankful for the animals I was eager to check on, feed, and water.
Thankful for my son, walking beside me to help out in the barn.
Thankful for my life.
The flu has a way or rearranging your priorities and your perspective.
And - for the moment - I let it all soak in.
I steeped in gratitude.
And we got to work.
The day was full.
Running between Pete and Lupine's respective sick-beds, tending our sick cat, caring for farm animals and other pets, cooking, laundry, dishes, and keeping our business afloat.
Sage was amazing and helped all day, but still. It was a lot.
As the day wore on I quickly wore out.
Still sick, I simply did too much and neglected to take care of myself.
I ran myself ragged and never paused to refill my own cup.
Why do we do this to ourselves? It's a maternal curse.
By the end of the day I was done.
Disaster was eminent.
And of all the things to fall apart over, I chose pajamas.
I can't find my pajamas.
And I have the flu.
And I'm tired.
And I need to go to bed right this second.
Of course it wasn't about pajamas.
It was about fever. And exhaustion.
Mostly it was about needing help and needing rest.
But in the moment I mistook those things for missing pajamas.
And. I. Sobbed.
And then, something wonderful happened.
In an instant my family circled around me.
I was held in so much love and compassion and understanding that I could fold into the feelings and let it move through.
I could just cry. And be held.
They were there to hold me up while I fell apart.
There it was. The help I needed all along.
Miraculously, my fever broke.
I found some yoga pants and I crawled into bed.
I said goodnight to my family and closed my eyes.
As I lay in bed I circled back to gratitude.
To that glad and thankful heart I had just twelve hours before.
And I wondered if I could close the day by counting 100 blessings.
1. I began with my husband - loving, kind, funny, and caring.
2. I added my son - helpful, tender, sensitive, wise.
3. I added my daughter - giving, aware, nurturing, and loving.
And then... I stopped.
Sure, there were more.
But those three?
They felt like more than 100 blessings already.
Well, Lupine took this pic of me as I headed out for chores.
(They eyes are the giveaway. Still. Sick.)
But so much stronger than yesterday.
(In every way.)
And yes. Today I'm asking for help.
As Sage and I suited up for chores I asked Pete to cook breakfast.
And I'm about to read my kids a book and then knit.
And I'm deeply aware of the blessings I have to count this cold winter day.
See? I'm feeling better already.