Sometimes things just don’t go right. Sometimes all the things you just put up with bug you more than usual. I didn’t understand any of this when my ex-husband went through it and it took me several years to understand why he was almost impossible to tolerate every year in August. He wasn’t a bad guy but during that month, every thing was wrong. I remember one time how insanely mad he got at me just for switching off the basement light as he had planned to go down there eventually. It was so hard to understand how turning off a light switch could anger someone so much as those switches are pretty easy to operate. I remember when all the pieces finally came together and I realized that August was the month he lost both of his parents. On August 7th he lost his dad and then his mother, years later on August 21st. I learned over time that August would be a month where I would need to gear up and prepare myself for the worst and the worst never skipped a beat. I was just thankful to know that I needed to be ready. Years have passed. That marriage ended but not because of the anger I faced every year in August. That marriage ended because of things much worse, but as far as the parent’s deaths, trust me, I tried to take the good with the bad and do my best to understand the ups and downs. I did struggle to understand it though because we all know death is a part of life and as adults shouldn’t we be able to just let it go after a while? Well, as fate would have it my turn would come to feel what he felt and I finally understand that even though I don’t dwell on my parent’s deaths each and every second of every day it does make my life a bit more difficult between April 8th and May 4th every year. I carry on just fine most of the time but I do have bouts of anxiety and I feel incredibly overwhelmed when I feel pushed in several directions at work and at home. My very lengthy fuse is shortened considerably and things that wouldn’t typically anger me, anger me. Today when I got to work I put on my apron and radio then headed to the office to get an iPad and an additional radio. I walked back to the frame shop and found that absolutely nothing had been done yesterday while I was off. I had two orders that weren’t clicked complete on the computer which is a huge no-no, I had six boxes of freight that had not been unboxed, there were several orders I took on Wednesday that were not yet sleeved and I had a full day of orders due. I broke down just a bit because of the mountain that appeared before me but I knew I needed to regain my composure and for whatever reason I pushed away from my counter and my eyes caught sight of something that always makes me feel as if my parents are with me, trying to let me know everything will be alright. A dime. A simple little 10 cent piece. You might think I’m crazy but when my dad died I started finding dimes everywhere. In the washer, on the street, in drawers…everywhere and one day as I was going through a few of dad’s things mom had given me I found a bag that held his tie he wore for his senior pictures, some old hunting licenses and a ton of dimes! This very same thing happened when mom passed away so finding dimes became a source of comfort for me.

My day actually went quite well. I had one of my favorite framing customers show up which helped to calm my frustrations and then, almost as if someone was helping me, I was able to move that dang mountain and accomplish way more than I ever thought possible. I work with several people that do not believe in God. I’ve had others that think I’m nuts when I tell them about the dimes and all I can say is, their day will come, they will understand but until then they’re gonna have a heck of a time moving their mountains because they’re on their own….I had Help!