Wednesday, August 27, 2008

thank you for..........

a red rose from your garden, sitting in the waiting room with me, spinach lasagne, using the word fuck, a limerick, cards sent via us postal service, coffee on my bedside table, homemade veggie burritos, letting us drop off the boys at 6:30 am when your own weren't even up yet and you were making pancakes, coffee and tears at cucuru, your anger, emails, listening, facts and figures (81%!), the dnc diversion, text messages while driving to surgery in the early morning, picking the boys up from school, the chance to slay some goblins while on percocet, slow-talking self-hypnosis man, cheesecake, brownies, pizza, the red jewel of a heart, your tears, prayers, raising arizona, reefer madness, and other cult classics, dr. susan love's breast book, your porch swing, cosmos to drink, camels to smoke, spreading the word, 40 bucks to go see a movie, enchiladas, flowers, taking the boys for 7 hours on a saturday, doing the laundry, the dishes, and the tucking in, helping me get dressed, a phone call from brooklyn to awaken, chicken quiche, the best damn purple potatoes i've ever tasted, fresh greens, peach pie, stopping by, surviving to tell your story, text poetry, tabouli, sitting on my bed, calling the boss when I was too drunk to, chocolate, love, positive and negative thoughts, "an army of friends", a morning walk, doing your chores without being asked (ok, let's be real... after only being asked once), hugs, supporting john too, retsina wine at jake-n-telly's, forwarded funny emails, wisdom, zucchini bread, zucchini muffins, offering to fly out to be here, washing my hair, telling your own children, giving me a ride to work, giving me a ride home, friendship, holding my hand, telling me it's gonna be alright, invitations to go out, commenting on the blog, making the scar match the outline of my areola, flowers, taking care of your son while he is taking care of me, 100% agave tequila in a wicked cool bottle, homemade peach frozen yogurt, phone calls, taking all the recycling on the front porch to recycle america, understanding

17 comments:

Friar Tuck said...

Gratitude is ALWAYS a good thing.

Jim Thomsen said...

Thank you for spending 14 minutes of your Saturday night Percocet haze on the phone with me.

It was important to me.

suesun said...

friar - yes..... yes it is. how easily we forget.

jim - was it really 14 minutes? Wow! It seemed like about 3.

If I left anyone or anything out, please, by all means, let me know!

Bettina said...

You are a treasure!

John said...

You're the best Sue. I just know everything is gonna be alright.

klayton said...

YOU ARE WELCOME

Jim Thomsen said...

Ouch! That's what she said!

Jane-0 said...

Of all things
somehow we are sister z
If thoughts of you were like
stars in your night sky
yours would surely be...

I once watched U as You bravely allowed yourself to be hurled into the air on a giant elastic sling shot ride at the Oregon State Fair

You are brave and beautiful more so than I ever could be

citizen of the world said...

There is nothing in the wolr dlike listing what you are grateful for. Good for you.

Nancy said...

gifts I receive...

Sitting in your living room watching Grant, who is outside and holds over his head chrome handlebars. He determinedly walks towards the sliding glass door and swings the handlebars, but stops just short of impact. Secretly, I wanted to watch the door shatter.

Bennett sidles next to you into your chair, and then thinks to ask if he's pressing against the "side that hurts". No, you say calmly, you're fine.

From upstairs, John coughs, a tall tree toppled by stress and the first week of school.

daisy said...

hey sue bee--I have gratitude for you and your beautiful spirit, thank you.
sounds like your hubby might be sick with the cold going around. are you up for hitting some of the openings at first friday this week? I am happy to pick you up/shuttle you around/be in your presence. i'll call.

geronimo said...

Some of us learn to be roadside angels, touching the gravel with the wings in our feet, tasting diesel fumes in the backblast of passing trucks, our
dreams filling the spaces between now and what will come. What lies before us, the calligraphy of the horizon, the buildings against the dusk are so
sharp that it cuts with every step, but we go on because we know that there is some wonder, just beyond sight, just another minute, another mile, the next turn. It waits for us, as it always has. And so we empty ourselves of all but memory and tell ourselves that what we know is nothing in the light
of what is to come.

Cindy Fey said...

I am grateful for you.

And Geronimo's poem.

Kate said...

And how are you feeling now? Please update whenever you are able. A lot of us lurk and worry in silence. :)

Sam D said...

This most recent post is just another example of what an amazing woman you are. I appreciate the strength and independence you exude in every interaction I have had with you. I am trying my best to send positive healing energy in your direction. Best wishes.

suesun said...

Nancy - the freedom to stop by is what brings such moments

JanoO and Geronimo - I love you.

Cindy - me, too

Kate - update coming soon.

Rebecca said...

I am grateful for you. For the the chance to have met you. To read your words. For your presence and your nudge when I am not present, I deeply thank you, and pray for your well being.