Better Days are Here

I wore a friend’s sweater all day yesterday. It’s black, a hoodie. It smells faintly of chainsaw grease (chainsaw oil? gas?) and him. It’s worn, no holes but the lettering has started flaking a bit. It says “BETTER DAYS ARE COMING”–song lyrics–in blue print that resembles 90s clip art, all wavy with a slight dark to light gradient.

Like I said, the shirt is a reference to this song. I listened to it, played it on repeat, really. I came to the conclusion that it’s all right. I think, maybe, about a year ago, it would have landed on my heart differently than it does now. When I was in the deep dark and was desperate for a better day. When the pain and disorient were an unrelenting eternity. As I listen now, I realize that somewhere along the way, I woke up to a better day. I woke up to softness and slowness and fun and care and really good food. And I felt grateful.

Today, I woke up in a warm bed. Well-rested and a little thirsty, I wore comfortable pajamas and took a sip from the cup on my bedside table. I drank tea and roasted cashews, slipped on the same black sweater, and went for a walk in knee-deep snow. I had hard conversations and drank enough water. I rolled a giant snowball around the yard and into a creek and watched my friend’s dog bark at the mass as it floated in the water. I’d like to inform you of how large this snowball was–It took three of us (me and two grown men) to push it. That brings me to another point. Why were we pushing around a massive ball of snow? I don’t know. And also I don’t need a reason. But I can tell you there was nothing else I’d rather have been doing. It made me tired and sweaty and laugh like a kid. I soaked lentils and ate some blueberry-apple bread and watched the snow fall. I drank juice from a box with a little straw. Apparently, I just-in-time caught my dog’s throw-up with a garbage bin. I tended to plants and snuggled my cat. In other words, I existed and I enjoyed it. I loved every second of it. I had people and pets around me, and I was (am) grateful. So thankful. Nothing about this day was spectacular (remember the vomit), but it was good.

Good is holy. Good is enough. Good is all I could ever need.

I finished my day embroidering a shirt–a childlike script in the same blue gradient, “Better days are here.” Because they are. Right here. No more waiting.

Go listen to the song. Today, I danced in the sun.

I tenderly say to you: I been through it. I know you have too. I’ve made it this far, and so have you. We are going to be all right. Please believe me, that if better days aren’t here yet, they are coming, Love.