Hope in an Aquarium

I am rallying for a Divine 2009.

Mostly because 2008 has been rough. (O.k., maybe the worst on record.)

I am not a Debbie Downer, I don’t generally feel sorry for myself. I don’t blame God or the full moon or Mercury when it's in retrograde.

But, geez, it’s official.

I’ve had enough.

One of our rentals burned nearly to the ground night before last. Probably a 90% loss. Our renters had a grease fire. Nice. (I guess that’s one more reason why all of us should lay off the trans fats.) The mother and her four children made it out with the clothes on their backs. No one was hurt.

This is the latest in a long string of frustrating ridiculousness regarding our rental properties including someone stealing all the pipes out of a house (yes, they actually yanked them out from the crawl space beneath the house), a tenant moving out without notice (we found out three months later, after the druggies, homeless, bored teens and inclement weather had their way with the property), and miscellaneous missing HVAC systems. (Here in Atlanta they steal ‘em for the minor amount of copper wiring inside.)

Danger Dad is in real estate. The market is dismal. 'nuf said; you can imagine the gory details. The lucky thing is that DD is one of the most hard-working and scrappy folks I know. He’ll turn it around. But now? Things are tough.

We relocated from the city to a beautiful new home in a great suburban neighborhood only to discover that the developer had not been 100% honest about upcoming plans. It seems we moved into a construction zone, with light industrial warehouses and office space popping up all around. The excavators and other random loud construction equipment fire up around 7 a.m. and are non-stop until 6 p.m. or so. Napping in the back half of the house is futile.

Our entire house was felled with the flu on Thanksgiving. The beautiful dinner that we had planned with S & J was majorly postponed while we tried our best to not pass out or ruin the carpets.

Danger Dad had another episode and needed to call 911 for help. First one in 5 years. We still don’t know why his brain just up and stops working correctly. Stress? Diet? A mystery… And I’m scared that there’s been a reoccurrence. With no answers.

I know that with all bad comes good and there's been plenty of good (potty training in 4 days - yeah!) but I just want some balance and, well, a bit of a break from all the bad luck.

This morning I found some hope. And it all started with a simple trip to the aquarium.

It was beautiful.

All of it.

The water, the animals, S & J’s wonderment at the utter majesty of it all... It was so peaceful, and a needed reminder that we are a small piece of a really fantastic place.

Simply put, it just made me feel better. Like we can get through this... That there is great beauty in life and nature and family and this crap is just temporary.

It will pass.

And that will be beautiful.

Here’s to ’09!! (Only 27 days to go!)