MY ROLLER COASTER LIFE

             Emily Dickinson:

 “If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not llive in vain;
If I can ease one life from aching
 Or cool one pain,
   Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
 I shall not live in vain.”

   Dear Emily, these words are like
 a sweet balm to my soul. 
      It describes small acts of kindnesses
         that surround me here.

My friends (Gina, Mickey, Ginny, Maria)
 are so kind to meand everyone here. 
Their small but powerful kindnesses
 are like sweet rose petals,
 perfuming and coloring
 every “ordinary” day
 with extraordinary beauty.

           I never want to take this bounty for granted,
 even though it is daily
and could become commonplace
 if I ignored it. 
The nature of my “job” as Floor Rep
 is to commit occasional small acts of kindness.
  I’m grateful for these sweet “tasks”
because this action can keep my soul alive
 and caring—looking outward.

           I am such an emotional creature that
my feelings are constantly streaking around
 my universe on a screechy roller coaster. 
 Sometimes these intrusive feelings
 pop into overwrought emails
that I have sent to my kids.

  My latest outburst was about my budget
 and my fixed income, and how could
I afford to stay here!
Great gnashing of teeth and hand wringing
 was interwoven to my email fireworks.

   I am so blessed that my family loves me,
understands me,and tolerates me.

They responded warily but kindly,
 each in their own loving and individual way.

 And inevitably I calmed down.
 I listened to their practical suggestions,

and appreciated their loving attention.  

A few weeks later, when my daughter-in-law,
 who was visiting me, asked whether

I was going to still stay here,
 I almost forgot what she was talking about!

           I often have to get out of my own way. 
 It can be tiring. 

No one else would want this job,
even if they could handle
it much better than me.

I just have to ride that crazy roller coaster
 that is my life, and handle those 

scary dips and sudden turns. 

     After all, it IS interesting to me

        (I have odd tastes). 

I’ll take the scary occasionally
     as long as it doesn't upset my loved ones. 
  (It doesn't--they’re used to me).

  Am I lucky—or crazy—or what?