Last week I received a sweet text from Younger Son, about 30 minutes after he had left for school. “Hi mom! Sorry about this but if you’re not busy can you bring my French horn by please? It’s fine if you can’t but it’d be nice! Thanks! :)” Well, of course I would be busy — Wednesdays are the one morning that I really indulge myself, because Wednesdays I go to Italian class which I love. In the one free hour prior to class, I give myself the luxury of a trip to Starbucks to study, quietly, peacefully, with a delicious cup of coffee.
Some days, my initial response to a text such as this might be irritation (Younger Son is often forgetting things). But instead, it put a smile on my face to know that I could make this work for him, thus making him happy and grateful, without much disruption or inconvenience to my schedule.
Younger Son’s high school is under construction. Which makes accessing it extremely challenging. There’s always a tangle of traffic leading to the school and parking is nearly impossible. Then there’s the loooong walk from the parking lot to the school campus. All of this I did while wrangling a large French horn and walking in heels. (Usually I’m a flip flops gal, but today I had felt like wearing big-girl shoes). Still not irritated, although I felt that was certainly within my right.
On that rather long walk, it struck me how perspective is everything. And that even the stresses can be seen as blessings. Perhaps the stresses in our lives are actually our greatest blessings.
Truthfully, I was surprised that I wasn’t grumbling and complaining under my breath the whole time. But on that long and cumbersome walk, my heart felt really happy. It was a beautiful fall morning, the air was cool but the sun was radiant and warm. I thought about Younger Son and his good fortune — attending vibrant school, having a fantastic start to his high school years, being part of an amazing music program, which he absolutely loves. I thought of all my kids, in three different schools and going in so many directions, about how complicated it is to keep it all going, but about how grateful and fortunate I am to have the opportunity to do so.
I got my hour at Starbucks after all. I finished my compiti (homework). I drafted this post. As I was leaving, a dad and his little boy pulled up on bikes. The boy was about three, and full of energy and excitement. I felt a twinge of nostalgia. And I felt grateful for my little boy, who was just across the road at his high school, within site of my Starbucks table. Hopefully happily playing his French horn.