Look at it this way

"In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary." --Aaron Rose

I like to think that I'm a morning person. That I bounce out of bed every day smiling and singing showtunes. That I don't start looking forward to bedtime even while I'm still in bed hitting the snooze button and grumbling about waking up. Truth is that it takes coffee, a hot shower, generous amounts of moisturizer and concealer and a small amount of celebrity gossip website surfing to get me to start the day. Most of the time this equation works. I drink some caffeine, slather some makeup on, wish for the millionth time that I had low-maintenance hair, read some motivational quotes from the working out/eating healthy online community that I'm part of, smile at my husband while we wish each other a happy day and briefly kiss like the end of the world is coming, and I'm on my way out the door.

One day earlier this spring I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I can't remember what had me in a bad mood. Perhaps I ran out of coffee? Or forgot to charge my cellphone therefore limiting my ability to surf the web? I do remember feeling like the Care Bear named Grumpy or Stormy or Angry that has a dark raincloud over his head and is always mopey or frowning. Even the sun shining in through the windows at work made me scowl. As I put my sunglasses on (to minimize the glare from the sun hitting the computer monitor and giving me a headache), one of my co-workers noticed my expression and laughed at me. Which of course, made me furrow my brows even more. She then said, "Look at it this way, Valerie. The sun is shining, the rain and gray clouds are gone and summer is on its way!"

I thought about this later that week when I returned a gift from my late mother-in-law. Instead of giving me cash, the Nordstrom's sales associate handed me an iridescent gift card with a receipt showing $48.98 credit. I must have looked a little confused, because she said, "Look at it this way. Now you can buy something you really want!" I smiled a little sadly and walked to the parking lot thinking that I couldn't really get what I wanted with that gift card. What I wanted was another birthday with my late mother-in-law where she'd buy me some pretty earrings and we'd joke about perpetually turning 31. What I wanted was another summer of boating on the Columbia River with her and my father-in-law. What I wanted was to watch her eyes crinkle up as she laughed while teasing my father-in-law or my husband. I blinked as a tear fell from my eye and bounced off the iridescent gift card that I still had in my hand. I tilted it and noticed how the shiny surface gleamed at me as I moved it. At first glance it doesn't look like much. Just like a plain silver gift card, but pick it up and move it around under the light and suddenly there are patterns dancing around and you can almost see prisms.

I thought about how grief feels like that sometimes. On the surface it seems fine and the sorrow seems bearable. And then you tilt it and suddenly you're in tears. Maybe it's a trigger like Mother's Day when you are taking stock of your life and celebrating family. Or I'm driving to work and get a little lost in thought and start daydreaming and tear up. Lani was my husband's stepmother but to me she was like an old friend that maybe you only see every couple of months, but it never feels like it's been that long and you can just pick up where you left off. I couldn't tell you what her favorite color was or why she decided to become a nurse, but I can tell you that she loved getting flowers, religiously drank French Vanilla roast decaf coffee after dinner and always proudly displayed Christmas gifts that I bought her. On paper I guess you could say that we weren't that close. We didn't do chick flicks or have heart-to-heart talks, but if you tilt the relationship you realize just how much she meant to me. She meant an ally, another person in my corner, a mentor in how to achieve a healthy work/life balance, and a guide to navigating the sometimes tricky path called in-laws. I was a little intimidated by her the first time I met her and for a long time I worried that maybe she didn't think I was good enough for her stepson. She had a wonderfully dry sense of humor and had a knack for just telling it like it is and didn't beat around the bush. When I wanted an honest opinion about my job, a conflict or a career change, she told me the truth. I always worried that she thought I was too giggly, too flighty and maybe not practical enough and I had a hard time making conversation with her in the beginning, but I only recall that now as I've been reflecting on my relationship with her. In many ways she was more a friend to me than anything else and I like to think I was the same to her.

I used the gift card for some hot pink and black running shoes from Nordstrom Rack. I still feel a little guilty about returning the gift she bought me, but the last time I saw her she assured me there would be no hurt feelings if I returned it. I smiled as I thought of the conversation we would have had if she was still alive. "Well, look at it this way, Valerie. You essentially got to choose your own Christmas present." And we'd talk about discount shopping and deal-hunting and how fun it is to have cute shoes even if you're only going to wear them on the treadmill in your house and nobody will actually see them. What I wouldn't tell her is that I still have the gift card even though there's no money left on it. I guess I like that in a round-about way I still have the last thing she gave me. I keep it in my wallet near my debit card. I like that at any time I could pick it up and watch the light bounce around on it and think of her generous and encouraging spirit.

A few weeks ago Grant and I attended his cousin's wedding on Camano Island in the Puget Sound. It was a rare clear and warm day in May and a boathouse right on the water provided the perfect backdrop for an evening of celebration and dancing. I laughed at the stories my husband and brother and sister-in-law were swapping as we sat outside on the deck drinking wine and beer and toasting their cousin. And, as I always do at weddings I thought about family and marriage and the rocky storms that come through life. I thought about the wedding vows that mean more and more to me the older I get. I thought about the "until death do us part" vow as I asked my father-in-law if he wanted another beer. As I looked at the sunlight bouncing off the gentle waves as dusk settled in on the Puget Sound, I thought about Lani's laugh and her gifts to her family before she left. I smiled as I watched a tear sneak down my cheek and bounce off my wine glass. I smiled even more as I swallowed some more wine and pulled my husband out onto the dance floor and I thought yes, just look at it this way Valerie. The iridescence of her life will remain with me long after the gift card has been reused or recycled or ends up in a landfill. The light that picks up the reflections and bounces them around will remain. And I'm inspired to live my life in a way that when I'm gone, those that I leave behind will celebrate our time together and embrace the light as it dances and changes shape as it moves across their life.