When the letter arrived, it was official looking and made me sort of want to vomit and also sort of want to punch people.
"Some people," I explained to my husband as he numbly allowed the letter to flutter down onto my chicken-gut covered counter, "some people are stupid and should die.Painfully. And first we should punch them."
I chopped the chicken on the counter. Chop-chop-CHOP.
Someone told on us. We are renovating and there is a room that has been dug in from the mountain that my apartment is built into but is technically not part of the official blueprint and we have been a little nervous about the illegalness (illegalality?) of it. But there were so many things that were illegal about that apartment, and we changed so much of it to suit the neighbors legitimate complaints, that we figured that room would go unnoticed.
Plus, who does that? What does it matter to you that I have an extra room that you can't even see on the outside of the house?
Someone does that, apparently. And so not only did it not go unnoticed, but other parts of the apartment are in peril as well, parts that are considered "storage," and not part of the actual apartment, but they are part of the apartment, but they are also I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE EVERYTHING IS SO COMPLICATED AND WEIRD are drawn over in the blueprint that accompanied the letter in heavy red lines. Now, I am no expert at Hebrew or legal stuff, but usually red lines in a sign of bad, bad stuff.
The letter arrived on Friday. Our lawyer sounded like we woke him up when we called him and told us to call back on Sunday. Perfect for an entire weekend of worrying. The layout was set, the electricity was laid out.They could just say, too bad. They could just say, rip everything out. They could just say, we don't care about your cryin' eyes.
And then I said, after the punching and murdering and vomiting urge passed, that we need to be more grateful. Because we are getting our own apartment after years of being pushed around by landlords and lack of money. We have been sweating the small stuff a bit, worrying about prices and fees and lawyers and holds and loans and maybe we lost sight a little, of the fact that we are so so lucky.
And then just because sometimes Hashem wants to say to you, "VERY good, you got it! Exactly!" I went to a shuir motze shabbas and the speaker was talking all about miracles and how they come about through us being grateful.
I am, so very.
So here is ten things that I am grateful for, in no particular order.
1. My husband. He is awesome, and funny, and talented, and cute. I am so lucky to be married to my best friend.
2. My children. They are individuals, and they bounce back in spite of me. They light up my life.
3. My mother. She is supportive and loving and we get each other and she finally figured out how to send e-mails, so yay for that!
4. My siblings. They are far, but near to my heart. And sometimes make me laugh so hard I cry.
5. My friends. They are awesome and there for me and are a great substitute for my far-away family.
6. You guys! You read and respond and sometimes argue and make me feel like I am not shouting in the dark.
7. My new house. But also my old house even though it is literally falling down around my ears. because it is a place that I can walk into and throw up my feet and make myself a coffee. It is a place to house our laughter and our tears, our ups and our downs. It is a place for us to live.
8. My words. I can express myself and be understood, and that that is a wonderful feeling. (Also, they pay me for my words! How awesome is that?)
9. My body. It is amazing. I open my eyes and see, I open my mouth and speak. I move my legs and arms and they move, walk, sit, and pretend to run. (Yeah, I need to get back into exercise.)
10. My father. It was the addition of some of his life insurance money that helped us to get this apartment, and while that can make me sad, I choose to think of that as exactly what he would have wanted; his gift to us. He is not here but he is so so much here, always in my heart, and watching out for me from above.
And now I can write a million things more, now that I got started.
But I guess the point is not just to write it; but to live it.