I got you and I still believe...

Oh man.  Where do I even start?!  I've had about a billion ideas for blog posts in the past few weeks, but no time to actually create them.  And even today, my to do list is bigger than the time left in the day.  But somewhere in the past few weeks I've hit a turning point.  I think I might have actually started to embrace this staying at home thing.  I think there are a lot of contributing factors to that new outlook (time, my new part time & totally sweet gig at Target, and re-starting the daily chore list from MotivatedMoms.com that the fabulous Cassie Lahmann told me about a few years ago).  And also, I'm blogging on a good day.  :)

I've had so many times in the past week where I've found myself just, plain happy.  Watching Max run (and I mean RUN) into school each morning, sharing a smile with Ivy because we happen to find ourselves pretty funny in our private & silly moments, and loving listening to Milo because I know just the right spots to tickle him to elicit outright belly laughter.  And yes, there are bad moments, and days.  And yes, these are certainly all things that I could (and did) have while working full time outside the home.  But it's starting to sink in why God lead me in this direction.  It brings tears to my eyes (of happiness, FYI)  when I realize how many more of these moments I get to have.  And I'm pretty confident that I *will* work outside the home again, and I know that each day and each new phase brings more opportunities so I know I'll only collect more, but right now I have so much time each day to have them and recognize them and cherish them.  All very cheesy, but all very, very true.

However, I totally have another motivation for this blog today.  During all this hustle and bustle and craziness of everyday, mundane life, I have not taken the time to thank a dear friend for doing one of the most wonderful and thoughtful things that someone has done for me in a long time.  (Which really is saying a lot, because I pretty much have the most amazing group of friends and family ever.  Be jealous.)  So here is my uber public way of doing just that.  The thank you can't do the gift justice.  But I'm still going to attempt to express my gratitude.

So, about a month ago I received this in the mail:

It was from my friend, Donna.  It included a letter detailing instructions about the order in which to look at things included in the package (and the rule follower in me kicked in and I totally did as instructed) and an explanation of how this whole wonderful story played out.  I'll give you all the short version.

Donna knew how bittersweet closing the doors of the coffee shop was for me.  In fact, she was one of the first people I told about the decision because she happened to send me a random Facebook message the week the decision was made, and she lives far enough away and is a good enough person that I knew she could keep a secret until I was ready to tell the rest of the world.  ANYWAY, knowing how sad I was to be closing the door on a dream, and also knowing how I had very naively thought that I would one day somehow magically get the band members of Wilco to visit, she decided to do something to cheer me up.  A series of (kind of funny, and very typical life o' Kara) events followed, and Donna actually got one of the band members to call the coffee shop one day while I was still open.  I actually even remember the day, and the out of state number, and feeling bad for not being able to get to it in time (as occasionally happened while working solo). So, never undeterred Donna went to Plan B.  She printed off pictures of the coffee shop (from her second and what turned out to be final, visit on her way back home to California a few years ago) and took them with her to a Wilco show.  She proceeded to get them autographed, and then took all the care in the world to mail them safely, with a hand written letter explaining it all.

And as I sit here typing this blog at 1:40 pm, unshowered, with no lunch in my belly yet, and a crying baby at my feet, I'm so grateful for this gift of thoughtfulness from my friend.  There will always be a little coffee shop shaped hole in my heart that I just don't think anything will fill.  And that's okay.  Because it was a huge part of my life, and it made me who I am today, and I met so many amazing people through the 9 years of its existence.  And there is a sense of failure that looms within me, because I think that if I just would have done a little better, brought in a little more business, I could have turned down the offer to close its doors.  But when I lump all of these emotions and thoughts together, I'm faced with a beautiful realization that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be right now.  And I'm happy.

I haven't had time to frame the pictures yet.  We're mid-finishing a room in our basement right now, and I think they will make a perfect home on the walls there, right next to the framed plexiglass Being There sign that Breona's stepdad gave me.  And while I don't need tangible reminders of the wonderfulness that that venture brought me, I'm still really happy to have them.  And I'm blown away by the thoughtfulness of Donna, and the kindness of the band members of Wilco to take time after a show to sign one more autograph.  They were, after all, the inspiration behind the name of the business, and their music has always moved me since that fateful day in 2001 when I first popped that CD in the player in my car on my daily drive to Central.

So, officially, thank you, Donna.  For not only taking the time to get these signatures on pictures of a place that is a part of me forever, but thank you mostly for being so sweet and thoughtful.  Those pictures and signatures will forever make my heart happy.