I opened a jar of huckleberry jam today for no special reason. I've had it since last summer, waiting for a special occasion. In six months, we've had family dinners and celebrated "small victories", but I've never opened the jar. Today I opened it; I needed to feel special.
I woke up at 4:30 to an odd sound - by the time I made it to Noel's bedroom, she was covered in throw-up. Poor dear, she still hasn't learned to sit up when she throws up - she just lays there, cold and smelly. I got her out of her jammies, into the bath, and put all the blankets in the washer. After her bath, we cuddled on the couch until she fell asleep at 6:30. I slept for a half-hour until Juliet woke up.
This is how most days have been for the past month - Noel is sick for a couple of days, Juliet takes her turn, and Scottie and I alternate between stuffy noses and stomach flus. I was exhausted this morning, so when I opened up the cupboard and saw the huckleberry jam, I opened it. I put it on some bread, ate it, and felt better. Special even.
I don't kow why we save things for the "special event". We save the best china, the good ice cream, and our cute outfit. I have a pair of jeans that I only wear on dates with Scottie, and a sweater that I haven't worn for eight years, because I'm nervous of it getting shabby. Instead, I've been wearing a horrible brown sweater, while my Swiss sweater sits in a nice tupperware under my bed. I think it's time to get it out and start enjoying it today. Along with the Huckleberry Jam.