Crossing My Fingers

So I've been thinking about what I wrote yesterday.  I don't know about most folks, but usually when I sit down to write I have no idea what I'm going to say.  Yesterday I knew I wanted to write about Jake, but I didn't know how I was going to go about it.  By the time I got to the end of the post, though, not only did I know why I was grateful for Jake, but I was pretty darned excited about encouraging people to donate to some cause.  I thought it would be so rad if I got a whole cascade of donations flooding America because of Jake - oh and because of what I wrote.  That didn't so much happen.

But I guess kind of like how I don't know what I'm going to write, I don't know what the result of what I write is going to be either.  As I've read back over what I said that I learned from Jake, I realized there are some things about me that need some changing.  You know how I said, "Thank you for learning to walk and to speak during the time that you were healthy.  I found out that I wasn't born to get to a prescribed finish line, but simply to enjoy progressing."  I want to put that learning into action.  I want to be happy with my progression.  Like while I pursue a sub-3 hour marathon, I want to be happy in the movement of my body, I want to be happy if I manage to run 5 or 6 days in a week, I want to be happy if I run a 3:05, I want to be happy if my interval times improve even just a little.  I'm determined to have satisfaction in my growth.  It's going to be the same with writing and mothering and wifeing, and daughter of Goding.  I'm going to love every step in the direction that's even slightly above 180 degrees.

So I guess the great transformation that was supposed to come out of yesterday's post wasn't for the world, it was for me. 

"Yeah, uh, Jessica...um...hows about you start with yourself?" 

"Right, right.  Ha, ha."

I'm crossing my fingers that I've got it now.