Knowing what’s important

This is not really a blog with a posed question, and it’s not about writing. I just wanted to share something with you. You can comment if you like—I hope you will.

A few weeks ago I muttered and whined to myself because I seemed to be hitting every light red on a long street I used to get home. Fate seemed to be keeping me trapped in the car when I was tired and my back ached to the point of distraction. Hitting all the lights green, the trip would have taken twenty minutes. I’d already been twenty minutes and I was only half way home, where I could walk out a Charlie horse, take off my shoes and put up my feet until an Aleve took off the pain’s edge.

Later that night, I complained to Jack about all the red lights and he casually commented that, yeah, that’s happened to him a lot, too.

What had bothered me so much rolled right off his back, making me admit what I knew all along: I’d made more of the situation than I should have It was just a trip home that took a bit longer than usual. Nothing bad happened, I was simply inconvenienced. Wow.

Jack excuses these little bumps in my equilibrium because he knows that once in a while little things get to people, and I’m only human. (And all this time I thought he thought I was a goddess. Funny the things one learns…)

Anyway, sometimes it’s a good thing to be reminded that everyday life is what it is. Most of the time, life rates somewhere between good and wonderful. Once in awhile, it sucks big time—hopefully not very often or for very long. For more than a year I’ve had pretty bad back trouble. For me it’s been hell (for Jack, too, putting up with me. Sorry, honey!). But it’s not the end of the world. My back problem can be controlled for the most part. Lots of bad things happen that are out of our control.


Last week an event happened that might seem bad and uncontrollable. Yet, it’s also awesome and inspirational. One of Jack’s coworkers gave birth to a baby boy, very prematurely. Meet Benjamin. He was born at 1 lb 10 oz and struggles through every move, for every breath.

Right now, all his parents care about is life and living. All they’re hoping is that Benjamin someday can experience the inconvenience of being stopped by a few red lights. That he gets to swat at mosquitoes and cry over a stubbed toe. That years from now he can fall in love, fall out of love, and fall in again.

That he can live.

The little guy is a fighter it seems, and that’s for the good. He’s also getting the best care St. Louis has to give.

Look, intellectually I know what to worry about and what to let go. But seeing a picture of Benjamin, hearing about his daily effort just to stay here among us, sure puts everything in perspective in a way that’s anything but intellectual.

Like him, the perspective is all heart. All love.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is what writing’s all about.

By the way, Benjamin’s family says all prayers are welcome! So, if you’re inclined, your positive energy will be much appreciated.