When I began this blog I wanted to remain anonymous. I am a very private person by nature. This blog was only meant to be a place to share my creative projects, not my life. But since this blog began I have had my fair share of "adventures" that have opened my life and made it more public. This has caused me to reexamine my goals. I believe life gives us experiences, both good and bad, to teach us. We can choose to learn the lessons and share with others or we can mope, complain, and grouch to others (and occasionally we can do both). I hope you don't mind if I begin to share some life lessons that come my way in the form of "Joy's Jots." My goal is that in the sharing we might both to have more JOY in our home and in our life.
Just days before Christmas my husband's co-workers came to our home on two separate occasions to surprise us with multiple boxes of gifts. I was humbled, delighted, and beyond grateful for their kindness and charity. My sweet companion passed away nearly nine months earlier and yet his co-workers still loved him and missed him so much that they wanted to give to his family. They had already been incredibly generous to us after his death. What is most amazing is these are not people with whom he had worked with for years and years. After losing his own business my husband had taken this job just over a year and a half previous to his death. He was one of the oldest employees and many of the others were the age of our oldest children. They barely knew my husband and had only met the rest of our family at his funeral and yet they came bearing several gifts, months later, to bless our family. We laughed and cried as they told stories of the fun times and memories they had working alongside their beloved co-worker.
On Christmas morning I sat contemplating and staring at one large pile of presents. My thoughts were of gratitude. I was grateful for the givers and thankful for the life my husband lived. These gifts were given to our family because my husband had lived a good life. He was a man with no enemies. He never burned a bridge. He formed friendships easily, even with people he had only talked with on the phone. He always tried to see the positive. He would fill the room with his large personality and infectious enthusiasm. He worked hard, loved life, and enjoyed people. He made it a point to let others know of his love for them. The way he lived was a gift to all who knew him. Now, even in his death, his life was still bringing his family bounteous gifts.
It was sobering for me to realize just how much living a good life can affect others long after we are gone from this earthly existence. It caused me to make a resolve to live better, to give more of myself to those I love, and to be more useful to my fellowman.
We rarely get the opportunity to truly witness how our actions affect those we love but those stacks of boxes were a very tangible evidence of the gift of a life well lived.