Things Are Back on Track

In one twist of the knee, things shifted out of place.

Now, with Justin feeling better and me finding temporary work at the newspaper I used to write for, things are coming together again.

This will turn out for the best, people told me when the doctor first told us Justin would need surgery. Good will come out of it. Actually, good things happened during it.

People are just so nice. First, when I went to pick Johnny and Richie up at the pool after Justin's doctor appointment and burst into tears, my aunts Mo and Maureen and friend Stephanie gathered around me and said, "We'll help you. We'll watch your kids. It'll be okay."

And I realized how silly it was to think that we were alone in this. What had seemed so big suddenly seemed so small. Not just because people would help us, but also because I remembered the other times I'd seen people circle around their friends and say, "We'll help you."

When somebody was gravely ill or lost somebody. All those times that you can't tell somebody that things are going to turn out for the best. Because they won't. Even when time takes the edge off missing someone, they're still gone. And they've usually taken something with them.

My mom gave me a facial for my birthday with her neighbor Lisa. Which at first made me feel like I was fiddling while Rome burned since I still hadn't found a job. But I soon forgot all about that. I felt, as she put all these lotions on my face, like everything would be okay. I wouldn't have to do anything I wasn't supposed to do. If I needed to go back to work full time, for instance, then that was the plan laid out for me.

When I got back home, our neighbor Mark was picking up toy dinosaurs off our grass.

"I'm going to do something nice for Justin," he said, "because he's always helping me."

Justin is the go-to person in the neighborhood when someone needs advice on home improvement or something moved.

Then Mark mowed our lawn.

The next day, my aunt Mo took the kids for the day while I frantically applied for freelance jobs.

Next I got an e-mail from my friend Ann, who I only really know through this blog. She e-mailed her friends in the publishing business to see if they needed freelancers and gave them the link to this blog.

Finally, my old editor, yesterday, said he could keep me as busy as I want to be in the next two weeks, writing stories for the newspaper in the Northland.

Now, after all that, Justin says he's going back to work on Monday. Even though he can barely walk. Still, I'll need the extra work to make up for the past couple weeks and ward off full-time employment a little longer.

Plus, Justin still has the surgery ahead of him.

All this made me realize that I need to be more helpful when people hit a spot of bad luck or worse. That I need to freak out less when something bad happens to us. That it is possible to be even bigger tightwads than justin and I were before, shopping at Aldi's and renting movies from the library. And that time with the kids is even more precious than I thought. Especially summertime.

Things are back to normal, or abnormal, I should say. The kids were speaking in Whine this morning. A language that, as Justin says, cuts straight through the forehead and makes it impossible to think. Which come to think of it, might be why he's itching to return to work on Monday.

Now, juked up on Magic Stars, they're shooting each other with a nerf gun and making plans to battle Nacho Libre, which would give them an excuse to wear their underpants over their clothing.

Richie just said, "Close your eyes," to me, and when I did, he licked my shoulder.

J.J. is talking to his blue and white soccerball, which he is in love with like Tom Hanks fell in love with that volleyball in the island movie.

Yep, this is a great job.