These people. These goofy, blurry, imperfect people to my right are what make my life sane, clear and ideal. Okay, not sane exactly, but they do keep my head on straight. They are my purpose. My gift.
They are why I get out of bed every morning and wash dishes every night. They are why I’m buried in laundry and, occasionally, smothered with love. They are my everything.
Is that healthy? Probably not. But, I don’t care. All of my eggs are in this kooky basket of misfits and I’m fine with it. Before a concerned reader emails me and tells me I’m not living my life right, let me say that I take care of me too. I started running again, I hit the gym a few times a week, I write, I took a painting class, I started coloring thanks to a generous gift of Coloring Animal Mandalas from my friend, Melisa – so, I’m not neglecting myself.
But, those people up there? They lift me up and they keep me grounded at the same time. And, you can’t ask for a better atmosphere than that.