I said goodbye to my mom, hung up the phone, and promptly started to bawl.
Throughout our conversation, she had said all the lovely things a good mama says, things like: "I'm proud of how you've handled this," and, "You've been very brave," and, "I know things will get better." But the truth was, I wasn't feeling very brave. I wasn't feeling like my trials were ever going to abate. In actuality, I was feeling discouraged and depressed!
The last couple of weeks have been pretty "bumpy" for me. I have had the flu and a bad sinus infection. I have spent hours in Urgent Care. I have had my ears irrigated, resulting in a crazy bout of vertigo that has lasted for days. I have been taking large doses of antibiotics that leave my poor tummy in knots and cramps. I haven't washed my hair in a week. I haven't left my bed in five days. I've been through two full boxes of tissue and a gallon of orange juice. My poor children have watched movies until their brains turned mushy, have eaten a steady diet of Cheetos and peanut butter cookies.
I am tired. I am sick of being sick. I really need to shave my armpits.
So--after a good cry fest--I dried my tears, threw my bed covers off of me, and went downstairs to the kitchen. I rummaged through the cupboards and drawers until I located my Belgian waffle maker. I did the only reasonable thing I could do.
I made waffles.
Golden, crispy on the outside, soft and flaky on the inside, waffles. The sizzle of the batter against the hot plates, the smell of the waffles cooking, the pat of butter on the waffle ready to eat, the sweetness of the maple syrup...it was like magic. It was like sunshine and a baby's laugh and a fresh coat of nail polish. It was like a friendly text from a loved one and a Diet Coke being poured over ice; a shining moment that seemed to say, "Everything is okay." It was a reminder of the good stuff. The simple pleasures life offers.
Life is hard; unequivocally challenging. There are dark days and rough patches, moments of despair and heartache. But beneath the surface of our trials--hidden in the cracks of our pain--lies a beautiful idea: We can find joy in the little things. We can recall the things we are grateful for, no matter how small they may seem, and find a bit of sunshine in them.
When in doubt, my friends, make waffles!