What I Can Be Grateful For Right Now

I have to say, this quarantine is quite the challenge. I’ve been fairly sequestered since March 14 and as the days wear on, staying positive feels like a daily chore.

Since I have spent the last seven years caring for my mom, my life was relatively simple. I had pared back my schedule, no longer working full time, but in the process started a part time business that has been my salvation.

But for wedding coordinators and other event personnel these are trying times. I’m working on a few ideas but business has come to an almost screeching halt. My husband is working from home and honestly, I’m relieved to have him here. From a standpoint of family safety, and for the income it provides, there is much to be thankful for.

What is getting me through? Well, besides coffee and chocolate, it’s Gratitude. Yes, that meaningful little word has become a daily touchstone for me.

In expressing what I’m grateful for, I’ll tell you what I did this morning. I awoke at 6:15 am, started the coffee pot, and walked outside to fill my bird feeders. I wiped the rain drops from my outdoor bench. By the time I walked back in the house, the coffee was just about ready.

I took a cup, a pillow, and went back outside. As I sat on the bench with my warm cup of coffee, I relaxed and listened. The birds were a musical cornucopia. There was so much singing among them, joyous sounds of morning bliss, that I couldn’t help but feel grateful for their chorus.

All day long, on and off, I check on my bird friends to see how they’re doing. I watch them intermingle with the squirrels. I wait for a new sparrow to choose my birdhouse for their next nest. The blackbirds position themselves on the rod where my feeders hang from, perching themselves to have access to the sunflower seeds. They all provide me with a daily reminder to be happy.

Along with the birds, I am in awe of what is blooming in my own backyard. This week I snipped branches of purple lilacs and made a vase full for both me and my mom. Their fragrance fills my kitchen. My peonies are budding, my roses are filled with fresh growth, and my azaleas are on the cusp. Every day I walk outside and look around, waiting for another flower to blossom.

I recently bought zinnias, dahlias, and a few herbs but here in Pennsylvania, it’s a bit too early to put them into the ground. So I have them in pots, outside during the day, and brought in for cooler overnight temperatures. I can wait. They are thriving and it won’t be long until it’s time to plant them in the ground.

One of my orchids has birthed six fresh blooms, with at least three more buds to go. To say they are beautiful is an understatement.

Not my orchids, but these are exactly what I have! Kelly Sikkema

If I just look around, I can find these simple reminders of beauty. This situation will not last forever. It takes a bit of emotional work to stay grounded. We have never had this type of global rest before and we may never have it again. Let’s cherish it.

My Dad and I. Check out the cup of coffee and bread on the saucer!

It was a day like any other. Picking up my mom for her weekly grocery shopping trip, I looked forward to stopping at a local coffee shop while she took her time going up and down the aisles. The shop was close by and a few moments of quiet and a good cup of coffee were calling me.

Arriving there, I glanced at the bakery offerings. Since I had no chocolate in my purse, it was going to be a cookie kind of day. The display case at the Blue Canary was filled with delicious looking biscotti. I chose a dark chocolate drizzled, chocolate biscotti with cherries.

I sat down at the table and opened up my laptop. The mouse needed new batteries. Phone, coffee, plate with biscotti, napkins, check. Phone next to me, check. Finally, I reached for the biscotti and without thinking about it, I dunked the end of it right into that cup of steaming coffee.

The first bite was amazing. So was the second. I dipped every bite into the coffee and tried to be mindful of every chew. Instead of rushing through it, I savored and enjoyed the experience to the fullest. Wow, it was wonderful.

When I was growing up, coffee was a part of life at our house and at my grandmother’s as well. Back then, there was no decaf (Sanka came later) so it was Maxwell House perking on the back burner of our gas stove. The coveted pot was metal with one of those little glass toppers. Plink, plink, plink went the coffee as it perked. After dinner, there was always a fresh pot. My grandmother was the first person I remember allowing me cups laden with milk and sugar.

My dad was a dipper. No matter what type of cookie was on the table after dinner, he dipped it. My mother’s Greek bread toasts (paximathia) or butter cookies (koulourakia) were his favorites. Around the holidays, like Easter, mom would make dozens of them to take to holiday gatherings.

And Dad didn’t just do cookies. He did bread and cheese (think slices of swiss cheese) or just plain toast. He loved to dip. He loved coffee and whatever was on hand to dip into it.

I’ve met people who are not dippers. They would never think of dipping their cookie or biscotti into their coffee. Too many crumbs, they say, floating in their coffee. But I LOVE IT. So what if you get to the bottom of your cup and there are crumbs?

Sometimes when I think of dipping, I think of the old Dr. Pepper jingle. Instead of Be a Pepper, listen to the jingle below and substitute “dipper” for the word “pepper” in your head.