I don’t want to ever, ever, ever forget how thankful we must be for living here. So rural, so safe, so distant from what’s going on in the rest of the world that COVID-19 almost seems surreal to us. I thank God that we live here. But I hesitate to call where we are a “blessing,” because I don’t feel like I’ve done anything to deserve being blessed, especially when others are born into such hard places — big cities, third world countries — when I for some reason was born here into safety.
So the simplest thing, then, is to be thankful. Thankful for where we live and everything that comes with it: For having enough groceries to last us another month, that our kids have lots of room to run and grow, that our work goes on unchanged.
And on a note that goes beyond the current international Coronavirus crisis, I am thankful, too, that I find myself in a new and improved stage of life:
–> Two-year-old Muggins is finally sleeping through the night (9:30 to 5:30 pretty regularly, and I can usually get him back to sleep for an hour or more in the morning). So I’m getting more sleep now than I’ve gotten in YEARS.
–> Now that the little fella is growing up, his independence and mine have both increased, and that means I’ve been able to ride and work on the ranch more lately. And it’s been good for my mental health. Just to get out and see the country and breathe fresh air and feel a horse underneath me is a big help. But to be able to re-prove (to myself, mostly) that I DO know how to ride and I DO know a few things about ranching, about this ranch where I’ve lived my entire life in particular… man, that’s sure helped to quiet some of those voices in my head.
I not only thank God that I have arrived at this good place in life, but I also need to thank my mom for getting here with me. The last 3-1/2 years haven’t been easy for her, or for me, or for my dad. Probably not for anyone. Turns out it’s not an uncomplicated thing to retire your dad and move your husband into his position.
Our entire family has just kept trudging through the ranch transition, though — we are Arviks, after all — and many times Mom has overlooked the hurtful stuff and just plain SHOWN UP for me. No matter what I’m wallowing in, she always shows up and digs in and does the practical stuff she understands best: Washing dishes, folding laundry, bringing a meal, babysitting the kids. It’s amazing what a clean sink can do to brighten one’s outlook on life!
And ah, babysitting. That littlest one of ours is not an easy job, even for me, which explains why I haven’t ridden much in a long time. But Mom, bless her, she’s been working up his tolerance, and by golly if she and the other kids can’t keep him occupied for a few hours now.
And that’s why I’ve been able to ride more lately.
And that’s a big part of why I’m feeling like I’m in a good place.
Like maybe we’re all gonna be okay.
Thanks, Mom, for your help.
© Tami Blake