Ripples of Kindness

Fair warning...this is going to be a disjointed...and very long post.

First things first.

I am running amuck...and happy as a pig in sunshine for it!

No longer tethered by a PICC line, I'm free to get into as much trouble as I so desire...and boy oh boy, do I so desire!

I've been released by one doctor and hopefully will be soon by my colon surgeon as well.

I am finished with oral antibiotics and all my blood work came back normal.

WHEW!

Thank goodness I can honestly say there is at least one thing about me that is normal.

Your prayers for my recovery?

My sweet friends...they meant the world and all to me.

Thank you.

Now...on to other news.

We just wrapped up the Vintage Home show during Dallas Market Center's Home and Gift Show...my first official outing since my unfortunate incarceration.

I ain't gonna lie y'all...it was a mite tiring, but I was blessed to have my daughter Jenn and sister Kerri come out to help me.  They split up the days Cat Daddy couldn't be there and kept me from disobeying the doctor's orders.  No easy task y'all as I can be quite the ornery old lady from time to time.

Sales were good, but it's the extra bonus I received during the show I want to tell y'all about.  While set up, I was reminded of why I have to continue to post.  I have been charged to do so.  Sometimes fast and furiously; other times in dribs and drabs.

(I can read your minds and right about now y'all are thinking to yourselves of how little I do blog these days, but hear me out.)

It's true.

I do tend to post rather...ahem...sporadically.  To the point I had considered calling it a day and handing in my mouse.

I had my reasons, beginning with I didn't feel there was anything left to say.  Let's face it...I can only show y'all my underwear so many times until you see how faded they are.  Also, it seemed like everyone had moved on to greener...and quicker...pastures like FaceBook and Twitter, leaving me with the sole excuse for rambling on being how much I loved the sound of my own voice.

But a funny thing happened on the way to market.

Readers reached out to me.

Readers who don't comment, but still take the time to read.

While washing my hands, a woman at the sink next to me, glanced up in the ladies' room mirror, caught my eye and said simply "I read your blog. I don't comment and I don't have a blog, but I read yours."  Stammering out a thank you, this perfect (and I do mean perfect for taking the time to tell me that) stranger dried her hands and was gone in the blink of an eye.

This happened not once...not twice...but four times during the five days we were there.

(Coincidence?  I think not. Just one of the many ways God has of speaking to me when I am doubtful of my place here on earth.)

Another one of these readers sat me down and took the time to tell me how important my writing was to her.

(Now because I believe in truth in advertising I should mention we are friends and she is not only one of the dearest people I know, but also one of the most honest.  She's never been known to blow smoke up someone's dress, but to always be frank and speak her mind.)

She shared with me how when she is having a tough day she reads my blog.  Doesn't matter if I haven't posted anything recently...she just goes back and reads one of her favorite posts to find a smile.  She pointed out that while I may not realize my blog's impact,  it touches others...almost as if it had a mind of its own.

As I sat there stunned by her words, a sense of blessing and being blessed came over me.  This was the only reason I needed to keep blogging.  FaceBook is fine for what it is...an instant connection.  Blogging provides more than just a moment's scratching of an itch.  Over time, whether we actually meet or not, we develop a kindredship...a sense of oneness.  I've heard over and over, blogging friends are not real.  I disagree.  Blogging requires a commitment...FaceBook does not...and I have yet to see the purpose of Twitter.

I guess simply put...it all depends on what each of us is seeking.

Most of us dream of making a big splash in an ocean of fame when sometimes being a ripple is our destiny.

Think about it.

A splash lasts only as long the depth of our ambition and gravity will allow, but a ripple widens, spreads and multiplies until collectively, it becomes a wave of ideas, emotions and acts of kindness.

I'm sharing this not to boast, but to share what it's taken me 62 years to learn.

All of us are capable of making a splash even if it's doing a belly flop instead of a swan dive, but to be a ripple...ahhh...that takes more than just sticking our big toe in the water.  It takes sticking our necks out as well as stepping out of the boat.

We have to be able to pick out the best stone for skipping, aim for the other shore and avoid hitting...or hurting...anyone in the process.  This takes repetitive practice and patience.  Done right, a ripple provides instant results that last far beyond our stone skipping abilities.

A ripple will continue to flow out, creating more ripples to join in and will only be stopped when encountering stagnant waters.  It's up to us to see to it that doesn't happen.

I thank those four people for being ripples in the river of my life and for reassuring me that I too am a tiny one.

I will continue to ripple along, but the course of my writing may/will change direction to avoid the aforementioned stagnation.

As I said earlier, I've shared all there is about me that's fit to be printed, but there are stories in my head that I hope you may want to hear.

I'm thinking of calling it My Required Summer Writing List.

And good grief...wouldn't you just know it?

Now I've got myself craving raspberry ripple ice cream!

(all photos taken by Jenn at Give Me Props during the show.)