Finding My Sacred

Bliss

I married my husband Daniel in July 2000, a year after losing my father. After the storm of losing my dad, there was a sense of peace shortly thereafter. I'm a couple months pregnant as I enter the calming shower. My mind is at ease, with only pleasant, positive thoughts. There is a tiny flutter within my belly, even without an ultrasound, my intuition senses, male energy. It took three years of trying to get pregnant for this bundle of joy to be made. I thought I was infertile, and we had given up. Then when we least expected it, he came.
We bought a house that was built in the 1980s, with a well-maintained yard, in a religious Latter Day Saint neighborhood. Across the street was a police patrol car that belonged to my neighbor; it gave me an extra sense of safety. It was a neighborhood where you could leave your door unlocked and everyone looked out for one another. The neighbors behind us grew fresh corn and they brought us fresh eggs from their chickens daily. It was my utopia, how I pictured every neighborhood should function. We had more material wealth than my middle class parents provided me. The lawn was manicured weekly, and to top it off I had a great job, a place where I made a difference. I was invited to be a guest speaker at a ritzy hotel in Park City. The topic was personalities in the workplace, I had always dreamed of public speaking, life seemed perfect..
I'd take a deep breath and could smell the soothing aroma of fresh turkey baking. My loving husband, Daniel, knew it was my main pregnancy craving. He painted and put trim in th e baby room, assembling the crib and painting the walls a buttercream yellow. Love and comfort surrounded our home. .
I felt completely blessed and said, "Thank You" out loud.
This was a defining moment, crystallized in my memory bank, I savored it and locked it away. The sight of water droplets that drizzled against my growing tummy. The sweet smell of fresh lavender tingled my nasal passages, as it funneled through the open window of the shower. I heard the high-pitched sound of crickets chirping as the sun set. I peeked out my steamy window and saw a crow perched on my white picket fence. I told myself that it was good luck. Little do I know, that one day, I will need to hold on to this moment for a sense of sanity. I am unaware that my life could take a complete turnaround in a mere blink of an eye. Being in a state of grace was comforting, however, it also kept me shielded away. It allowed me to focus on my family and my neighborhood community. Yet at the same time, I was naively unaware of the state of affairs of those in poverty and of those with addictions. A social worker with empathy, yet I didn't know how someone could get themselves in such a bind where they can't afford shoes for their child or how they cannot take their child to the doctor when they are sick or feed them breakfast in the morning? I had sympathy but a part of me still was judgemental. Fortunately, I had my backups, my safety nets, and a plan for emergencies. There was plenty of cash on hand, credit cards, safety deposit box, money market fund, retirement, savings bonds, life insurance. An extended warranty on everything I bought, it all made sense to me, I could not see living life any other way.