The Big Chill

Last week was cold here in Kansas City, but not nearly as cold it's been this weekend ... temperatures in the single digits, wind chills of -20 and a couple of inches of snow. I sure have missed my garage the last couple of days, not only because it kept my car a little bit warmer on these frigid winter nights but also because I could just stand inside of it while Ollie went potty in our fenced-in back yard. Now I have to put on my coat and my boots and my cousin Eddie hat and my gloves and my scarf and then carry my shivering little wiener dog down the sidewalk and out into the snow so he can pee and poop. And yes, I'm already worried about how that's going to work when thunderstorm and tornado season gets here in the spring ... hmmmm ... I wonder if I could buy one of those Ikea kid toilets like my little Canadians have and just teach him to use it? But alas, once again I digress ... back to how cold it is here. Ollie starts limping as soon as I put him down on the snow-covered ground because it's so cold that his tiny wiener dog paws freeze almost instantly ... poor little guy.

A few years ago when I was back home in Chattanooga for a visit, I went to dinner with an old friend at a restaurant called The Big Chill. It wasn't long after I'd been diagnosed with diabetes, and eating out was still sort of a frightening challenge for me in that I wasn't always sure what I should or shouldn't eat. I had no idea that my friend was a regular at The Big Chill, nor did I know she was good buddies with the owner ... the owner who also just so happened to be the main chef. Seeing the panicked look in my eyes as I looked over the menu, my friend excused herself from the table and went to the kitchen to ask the owner if she could prepare a diabetic-friendly meal for me. To this day, that remains one of the best meals I've ever had in my life ... grilled chicken breast that was so tender and juicy it almost melted in my mouth and stir-fried broccoli and cauliflower seasoned with cracked Italian pepper and topped with toasted mozzarella cheese.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my family and friends, maybe in part because it's almost Christmas. I think a lot of folks get nostalgic and a little sad around the holidays, but those feelings seem to be extra intense for me this year for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm living in a new place that doesn't quite feel like home yet, and I miss my friends from my old neighborhood. Perhaps it's because I'm grieving with my family back in Tennessee ... just last week, my sister lost her best friend of 70 plus years, and my niece-in-law's father unexpectedly passed away. And a few weeks ago, a sweet young member of our family received the devastating confirmation of the ALS diagnosis he was given earlier in the fall. Or maybe I'm feeling the way I do because I've been forced to wake up and smell the coffee when it comes to certain people and admit that actions really do speak louder than words, especially when it comes to friendship.

See here's the thing ... the thing that ties all of my seemingly random and unconnected thoughts above together, or at least I hope it will anyway. When it's as cold outside as it is tonight ... when the cold from that polar vortex thing zaps every bit of warmth from every single fiber of my being ... when it's this cold, I need to remind myself that it won't stay this cold forever. When I'm scared and questioning what I should or shouldn't do, I need to remind myself that there are people who continue to look out for me. When the pain of loss or the hurt of betrayal scream with all their might that I am completely alone, I need to remind myself to love more ... to care more ... to listen more ... to talk more ... to do what I say I'll do and to be who I say I'll be. 

Remember, friends, you only get one life ... live it well ... live it well indeed.