PHOTO: Mary van Balen “Have you celebrated that, Mom?” my daughter asked as I mentioned that this month would mark the beginning of my twenty-seventh year of writing my monthly column, “Grace in the Moment.”
“Well, no. Not really.”
“Well, you should. You should celebrate your accomplishments, and that is a big one.”
I conceded that one ought to celebrate, but wasn’t sure how to do something like that. I mean, shouldn’t someone else plan the celebrating? It seems odd to throw a party for yourself.
“It doesn’t have to be something big. Go out with a friend and have a drink, or go to lunch, or something.”
She had a point. Our lives are busy with work, family, and friends. The house can always use some attention. There is shopping and laundry, and yard work. Who has time to think about celebrations? But we should.
Honoring our achievements is not bragging. It is a way to reverence who we are and the way we contribute to the world. Sometimes by our work. Sometimes just by who we are. Recognizing an accomplishment empowers us to go on, to build on what we have done. It is as much a push to the future as it is a nod to the past. Celebrating milestones is a kind of self-care: making sure we appreciate and nurture the gifts we have.
My daughter was right. When one lives alone, observing life’s small (and not so small) accomplishments can be difficult. There is no spouse or significant other to keep track. To notice, for example, the passage of over two decades of writing. Or of finishing a pivotal chapter in a dissertation. Or preparing more meals at home than eating fast food. Or finally getting a room cleaned out and organized.
Perhaps what deserves celebration is the maintaining of a friendship across many years and many miles. Could be the completion of a work project.
But I think, as a country, we may be better at making lists than we are at honoring life’s special moments.
My daughters are getting good at it as this past weekend attests. I left for the retreat on Saturday with a messy house. The dining room table had scraps of paper, books, receipts, and countless other bits. The sink was full of dishes. My office table was likewise strewn with notes and books, with reminders and rough drafts. I had a wonderful day, energized by both the topic and the people attending, who were generous with sharing of themselves.
But, once the retreat was over, fatigue began to creep in. I opened the door of my house expecting to be overwhelmed by what had been left undone.
Instead I saw a clean kitchen.
“My sister,” I thought and smiled. She had done this before. What a blessing. Then I walked into the living room where a cleaned off table held not one, but two beautiful bouquets of flowers and an envelope. I opened the card: “That song in your heart? It’s beautiful. That dream in your journal? It’s possible. That moment you’ve been waiting for? It’s now…Congratulations.”
Then a beautiful note, written by my oldest, but sent from the hearts of all three daughters.
I sank onto a dining room chair and cried.
“You should celebrate,” my daughter had said.
Despite the miles and states between them, they had found a way to be with me at a special moment. They offered all the good things that celebrations bring: encouragement, joy, and support.
And my sister and her husband? They took my daughter (who had something to celebrate herself: The completion of assembling a new electric motorcycle on schedule for participation in a time trial…) and me out to dinner.
So I write a blog to thank them, and all those who help us mark events in our lives, however small, that give us a reason to notice and give thanks.
I am not sure who told me once that one should grab every reason to celebrate and do just that, but I am echoing the message.
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