Nickie Things

I am one of the many who lives with General Anxiety Disorder, and Depression. Thanks to the nature of my brain, my challenge has always been to find the positive in things, as I can be the one that sees the glass half empty, or even more accurately, sees the glass falling off the table and smashing into a million tiny pieces!

It seems that these days we are ALL inundated with negativity. Between the world news, social media, or even conversations at the grocery store, these are definitely challenging times. 

Of course, like everyone else, my life has its share of ups and downs. Along with the highs (and there have been lots of those), we have had some lows. We have had our share of losses of friends and family members. Our family has dealt with some pretty serious health challenges .There is never a dull moment at my house, I always say! 

To keep myself mentally healthy, I have to do what I call "the work". This is what I call, the "Nickie Things". These are the things that re-charge my batteries. The things that fill my soul. The time I spend with pens, paints, crochet hooks, and knitting needles. The time spent hugging my grandbabies, or spending time with my friends that support me. The time I spend with my dogs. The time I spend writing the stories of my heart. 

When I stop doing "Nickie Things", it is a pretty strong indication that I am heading towards trouble.

Without doing the work, my brain can start to lie to me. The imagination that is my gift as a creative, is my curse that can turn on me in an instant. I start worrying about everything, envisioning the worst case scenarios. Catastrophizing becomes my jam. It is not good.

Which brings me to this blog, dear reader. I want to try to promote positivity as much as I can. I would like to hi-light the joy in simple things. I want to show how one can connect with one's self, and connect with others through creativity, and with community. I want to share the "Nickie Things" that keep me in the light.  I want to help you, dear reader to see the magic and the blessings in every day life. I know that I am not alone in having these challenges, and maybe what I share, may spark something in you, like it does me. 

On Sundays, We Dance

On Sundays, we dance.

When it came to a point in our lives where some of our children did not live with us anymore, my husband and I started the tradition of hosting Sunday dinner. During my own childhood our extended family would get together at the home of my grandparents.  On Sundays, I would see my grandparents, and all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins.  This was a time to enjoy my Grandmother’s wonderful cooking, including some of the traditional Romanian fare – oh those dumplings and cabbage rolls! But it was also a time when I experienced a special connection with my extended family. The first time I had a sip of coffee, was at that grown up table! I also learned how to pour tea for everyone. My grandmother's first, because she liked it the weakest, my dad's at the end because his needed to be stronger. If my great aunts and uncles came to visit from the country, or from another city, there was always room at that table, or for us kids, who often lined up along the wall on the floor for our meal. Laughter, gossip and after dinner games of crib for those who were brave enough to play - that is what I remember. One time I was excited to have made a cake for dessert to contribute to the meal, but I made it in my easy-bake oven, and it was so small that there was only enough for my grandparents.  My Grandpa said it was delicious! That was more than 45 years ago now, and I remember it vividly. It was chocolate.

 My husband comes from a very close-knit family.  I think of it as being small compared to mine. Their Sunday dinners were at a smaller table, and more intimate. Most of my husband's extended family lived across the country, so his experience as a child was very different from mine. Those big gatherings only happened rarely when family flew in to visit. I think that the feeling of connection during those occasions was the same as I experienced as a child, but for him, those times were fewer.

Back to now. No matter how crazy a week it has been, we know that Sunday is coming and we will be together with all of our kids again.  My widowed mother is also a steady guest, as often is my niece. My husband is an AMAZING cook (I am truly blessed), and everyone goes home with a full belly, and leftovers.

My eldest granddaughter (who is three) calls Sunday her “Happy Day”. She says it is her happy day for many reasons, one of which is that she gets to see her great-grandmother, and all her aunts and uncles. She also gets to see her new baby cousin, my youngest granddaughter, who, at the time that I am writing this, is just three weeks old. Our big girl is a little uncertain right now, as she was waiting for the new baby to arrive so that they could sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, watch Disney movies together and share play dough. For her, this little bundle of joy that sleeps in our arms all the time isn’t really what she had expected.

But the biggest reason our little granddaughter calls it Happy Day is because, on Sundays, we dance.

After my kids clear the dining room table, and wash the dishes (did I mention I am truly blessed?) the music starts to play, and there is a kitchen dance party. The music will range from New Wave to Country, to Classical fare, but it will all be loud, and there will be LOTS of dancing. The little girl dances with her Grandparents, her Aunties, her Uncles.  Last weekend, while we were enjoying the new baby, and perhaps lingering too long over the last of a wonderful dinner, when my granddaughter came and whispered in her Uncle’s ear…”will you come dance with me?” And that little girl was reassured that even if her Uncle was a new daddy himself, with lots of new responsibilities and distractions, there was always time for a little Spirit of the West, and a Celtic reel with his niece.

And then the dance floor was filled. And when my adult kids dance and laugh together, it reminds me of when they were small and people would tell me how rare it was that siblings could be as close as my kids were. And that it was a surprise to see them get along so well together. That three children was going to be trouble, because there would always be two against one, and that one would always be left out. But no, they all dance together, and laugh, and hug and smile, and my heart is full, and my feet are tired. 

These three amazing adults are as connected now as much as they were as children. And now their children, will learn that feeling of family connection.

So on Sundays, on Happy Days, we dance.