An absence

I took a week off my blog to go to California for my father-in-law's funeral.  Without sounding too syrup-y, the trip was a blessing for sure.  We were able to honor the man who changed my husband's life.  Such a man as Bob deserves to be honored.

Bob was ninety years old.  Bob was an inventor, a computer genius, a soft-hearted gentleman, an animal lover, and a patient, kind person with a chronically positive attitude.  A man who took in three step-kids and raised them with all the attention and love he gave his own kids.  A man who took time to teach his children, both step and blood, to be honest and do their best.

My husband was one of those lucky step-kids.  As an eight year old boy who had been brushed aside by his blood father, Kirk looked at Bob with wary eyes; and I'm sure Bob looked back at this little boy with the same feeling.  You see, Bob was sixty when the two families blended; well past the child-tolerating years.  Possibly Bob, who had retired from a long, successful career, was hoping for a little respite at his advanced age.  But with three new children in his house, significantly younger than his own children, the respite never happened.

However, the dreaded accusation, "You're not my real dad," happened.  Such harsh words flew out and splattered all over Bob more than once as Kirk was growing up.  But Bob, like I said, was a patient and loving man.  Over time, trust was built and Kirk let himself be enveloped into Bob's life and love.  Before long, Kirk was calling Bob 'Dad' and meaning it with all his heart.

The world needs more Bobs.  This man blessed every life he touched.  He wore himself out serving others.  For years he helped his church congregation function by flying the flag, turning on the heat, calling in repairs for the chapel, typing up the member lists, and recording the Sunday services for members who were home-bound.

In fact, on the day of his funeral - which was held at his chapel - a carpet cleaning van showed up in the parking lot.  "We're scheduled to clean this building today," they said.  To which the bishop, who was to conduct Bob's funeral services replied with a dash of bitter-sweet humor, "Well, the man who would have called you to reschedule..."

That was Bob; a quiet man with the capacity to love as deep and as wide as the oceans.  A desire to serve that never diminished.  About Bob, his son said, "He needed us to need him."  And need him we did.  And still do.  There is a noticeable absence in our family now.  An absence that we will struggle to recover from.  A hole that can never be filled.
Bob was a hero.
A giant.
A blessing.

Find the blessings in your life and squeeze them while you can!
With Love,
Sylva Leining      

My life has been spared by three little gifts...

In truth, the blessings I have appreciated most, and counted as Godsends since last I posted have been:
1)  NyQuil
2)  Kleenex brand tissues
and
3)  Lunesta.

Without this 'trinity,' I would, even now, be curled up in bed (yet unable to sleep) and coughing my brains out.  But today, thanks to the 'three amigos,' I am up, dressed, well-rested, and breathing freely.  Heck, I even had energy to go up the street to our new local salon and get my hair colored!  (Thanksgiving is less than a week away, you know, and I needed to color the grays away.  I have to at least give off the illusion that I am pulled together at the big family gatherings...)  So let's make that four blessings.  The fourth being, hair coloring, of course.

Modern conveniences are such blessings!  Especially in times of sickness.  No wonder medieval folk died from illnesses like the flu!  One can hardly blame them for succumbing to death while suffering from congestion, fever and chills.

Their 'sick beds' were not made of memory foam.
They had no space heaters or thermal tech ski socks to be warmed by.
They had no lotion-coated tissues to sniffle into, nor hand sanitizer to sterilize themselves with after an especially goopy sneeze.

It surprises me not a bit that flu epidemics could wipe out thousands.  I probably would have been one of goners.  Especially if I had to sleep on straw, or go outside in the freezing November evenings to the outhouse that was - hopefully - positioned far enough away from my dwelling that I would not have to suffer the smell of it.  Although, in times of illness, such distant privy placement might have well been the cause of death for some.  Hence the invention of the bed pan, which, if you think about it, may have been the cause of death for others.    

Of course, people living in medieval times had it better than we do now, in some regards.  For example, they never had to deal with irritants like cell phone usage in restaurants, or a neighbor's leaf blower revving early on a Saturday morning.

Nor did they have to deal with their teenage sons spending every after school second on the Wii.

No, they would probably look at our time, shake their lice-ridden heads and say, "Keep your NyQuil and your sleeping pills.  At least we can refresh our straw mattresses every year."

This is all fine and good, Medieval Dwellers, but I would still choose my time over yours, and not just for the OTC cold and flu remedies available.

Keep warm, keep well,
Sylva    

The Second

I'll admit, it's not easy to think of all your blessings when you have the flu.  Heck, it's hard to come up with one when your nose is so stuffed up that the only way to breathe is though your mouth.  This wouldn't be a big deal except that my throat is so sore, I can't breathe or swallow through it without my eyes tearing up.

Thus is my situation today.  Perhaps this illness was brought on by my dip in the private hot tub I enjoyed with my hubby over the weekend.  This hot tub was situated on an icy deck at a ski lodge which sits at seven thousand feet above sea level.  We got a little chilled...I'll just leave it at that.

Anyone can find things to complain about.  There is no skill-set needed to find fault with something.  It is too prevalent a mind-set these days, anyway.  So instead of whining my flu symptoms--which would not only be counter-productive, but also hypocritical in my case--I'm setting out to look for good.  Even as I wipe my nose for the seven hundredth time this morning.

Can I find a blessing in the midst of my sniffling and coughing?

Well, yes.  Without too strenuous a stretch, I can say that I am thankful for my weekend away with my hubby; I wouldn't change it for anything, or wish it spent differently.  So, with every sneeze and sniffle I am reminded of how much I love him and how much fun we had on my birthday retreat.  He is, without a doubt, the biggest blessing in my life.

That wasn't so hard.

Here's to living life with rose-colored glasses welded to my face.  Here's to accentuating the positive in a sea of negative vibes.  Here's to finding the silver lining, because it's there.  Most times it's not even hiding, you only need to look up a little higher...
Count your blessings!  It's fun!
Warm Regards,
Sylva Leining

A First

Yesterday was my 38th birthday.  My husband took me to an exclusive lodge for a much-needed weekend getaway.  Our accommodations were stellar, the food was the best I've ever eaten, but truly, the weekend was all about...the private hot tub.

The morning of my birthday, I had a dream.  Maybe it was the five-star food from the night before talking, maybe it was my hot tub induced uber-relaxed state, but my dream was oh so vivid, and quite unforgettable.  I dreamed that I started a blog called 'Tis A Blessing!  In the moments before full consciousness, creating a blog seemed like the answer to many prayers, the realization of many dreams - but I've had those kind of dreams before.  The kind that, when upon awakening fully, one starts laughing and wondering, "Was I seriously considering that?  Did I honestly think that was a good idea?"  But that feeling never came with my blog dream - not even after breakfast, when the laughter is most boisterous and feelings of self-pity and even embarrassment are most prominent.

So, not knowing anything about blogging, but taking my dream for some kind of a sign, I resolved to start myself a blog.  Be patient with me as I learn the ins and outs of this new (well, not so new to you, but very new to me...) art form.

I've titled my blog 'Tis A Blessing! for two reasons:  one, because that was what it was called in my dream, and goodness knows, I wouldn't want to anger my subconscious self by overriding its predetermined title; and two, because looking for hidden blessings has always been a quest with me.

This aspect of my personality was kind of inescapable - I mean, look at my name!  Hanging out on the 'bright side' was inevitable with a name like Sylva Leining.  But that, in itself, has been a blessing!

This blog, I swear, will not become a homage to Pollyanna.  As much as I love the little darling, I also kind of resent her.  (Again, my name and it's implied goody-goody-ness.)  No, my blog begs to be taken seriously, so there will be no swelling violins, or amber-filtered photography, only life and its ever-present bright side.

Enough introductions.  Look for me every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and may you find life's hidden blessings!

Love to you all!
- Sylva