It’s easy to find miracles no matter where you live. The sun shining through the trees just right is a miracle, the changing colors of the leaves in the autumn is another one. That’s why I walk every day, rain or shine, through the neighborhood trails up into the woods. Yeah, I’m a 64-year-old overweight chick who lives in southeast Eugene with my boyfriend who is 67. The relationship is still relatively new, almost three years now, but we continue onwards. Sometimes it’s a struggle, but we are working through them.
I found myself remembering the miracle of those redwood trees off Walker Road near Crescent City, CA. That’s where my boyfriend and I were a week ago, along with our neighbors Howie and Robin. I can’t stop thinking about those mighty redwood trees and how they’re the oldest living organisms on this planet. Some are 2,000 years old. It’s hard to wrap my head around that, the wisdom and the hugeness of the trees, how small we are in comparison to those. And the trees in the woods where I traverse each day are magical as well, the Douglas firs and Sitka spruces.
I attempted to send text messages about miracles to my youngest daughter Megan today. She’s a beautiful 29-year-old redhead who lives in LA and works in the movie and TV setups and stagehand industry. She just got offered a permanent job at the Days of Our Lives set, which is wonderful. People would be happy to receive a job like this which guarantees union placement. Great pay and benefits. And she’ll ultimately work on other movie and TV sets as well. She and her boyfriend just found a house in another part of LA, and they have their two dogs. All seemed so well with the world for her.
Until today when Megan texted that she and her boyfriend are having issues. And they’ve decided to give their relationship a break. Sadness and fear washed over me like a waterfall. Fear that my beautiful daughter might spiral downhill again like when she used drugs. I told her that she is not alone; that she has her family and friends, and we’re always there for her. She’s absolutely devastated, and I feel her pain so strongly. My boyfriend and I have had issues lately. Maybe it was my fault because I was never a good example for long-lasting, supportive relationships with men when I raised them. But I can’t blame myself for this, even though it would have been better for the kids if I had been able to do that. Or not. It could have been worse. Who knows.
I try to reassure Megan that she is beautiful inside and out, that she’s smart, strong and capable in every way. I hope she believes me. She probably doesn’t right now, sigh.
I believe in miracles.