I’ve been sad for so long. It was my normal. I could “I’m fine” my way through it and even fool myself when I wasn’t fine at all. Every day, I had this lead feeling in my chest about this or that perceived failure. I feel like I’m finally stopping and catching my breath, and I can feel that heavy feeling lifting. I feel happiness creeping in more and more. I think I’m finally going to be okay and start getting better. I don’t want to taunt fate but I feel like I finally reached bottom and the only way is up now. Up is looking really possible. Every morning I wake up feeling optimistic. The sun is literally shining on me every day and I am recharging my batteries.

Freezing cold sun, though! It’s okay. I finally get to wear all the jackets, coats, and sweaters I never wore while living near the ocean. I live in the high desert now, and it gets below-freezing some nights. I know this is nothing compared to what other parts of the country deal with, but for me, it is chilly!  But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying the cold sunrises. I bundle up and drink it in.

This is a picture post but I do have a bigger point I will get to at the bottom. I just wanted to share the lemons I’ve been picking. One day I got a bug up my butt and trimmed some bushes in the backyard that were hanging over the fence. I worked up an actual sweat and rewarded myself with real homemade lemonade. There is nothing like fresh, homemade lemonade after a sweaty task. I drank three glasses in a row.

Later, I made these lemon cookies for the neighbors, who kindly lent me a backup battery to charge my phone when the power was out for three days. It’s fun to be baking again. But get this: my parent’s oven is awful! Figures. Now, when I have all the time in the world and can bake because it’s a great way to heat the house, their oven doesn’t work properly. There is something wrong with the thermostat, and it takes forever to get to the temperature. If I want to bake at 350, I have to set it to 400 and wait half an hour for it to get hot enough. It’s okay, though. I’ll get used to it.

One day, I walked out to the backyard to watch the sunset and saw tell-tale smoke. This is why the power has been shut off so often lately. We’re lucky if we can get through three days without it shutting off. But I’m thankful. My parents live in a high-risk fire area. I’d rather pretend I’m camping Little-House-on-the-Prairie-style any day than deal with evacuation and losing everything. Thankfully, the fire was across town, and the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, so we didn’t have to evacuate. But it was scary. Smoke and flames strike fear in all of us.

That night the winds were fierce. All night I heard them blowing and the sounds of metal stretching.

The next day, Cody and I walked around the neighborhood and saw all the damage. The windmill in our backyard unscrewed itself. A battery off my dad’s chop saw flew across the patio, and tree branches were everywhere. Patio chairs were in the street, trash cans were tipped and blown, and tumbleweeds were wedged into places they don’t normally go. It made me thankful for a solid safe house to sleep in.

That brings me to my big point: I am really thankful to my parents for the shelter and love they are giving me right now. They are so happy to have someone cook and clean; I am glad to do that. Finally, I feel appreciated for doing something easy and it comes naturally. I love projects. I love home makeovers. I love the sense of accomplishment I feel when cleaning and cooking. I’ve given myself the grace to take it easy and start over. Of course, my money problems are far from over, but I don’t have to worry about being evicted. The worst has already happened, and I’m okay. All the late fees and overdraft notices have come, and I’m still alive. There is peace in giving up. I’ve done my best. I gave it the best fight I could.

I’m so lucky to have a safety net to fall into. I didn’t think I would. I thought I was on my own. My parents were always the ones struggling, and I used to help them, but now the tables have turned, and they are helping me. There is something so wonderful about being taken in by your own family. I don’t mean to be bragging about it when I know so many people don’t have family who love them unconditionally. I thought I was so poor. I thought I was a failure, but this huge lesson has taught me how rich I am. I’ve learned the most significant lesson. Finally, I see what so many people have been trying to tell me. I have so much to be thankful for.

I like being a caregiver. I always have been, from super auntie to mommy blogger extraordinaire to empty-nest pet owner… This is me. Now I’m caring for my parents and am good at it! I’m sure we’ll have our hurdles, and I’ll be thankful for my quick trips to visit Matt and other friends, but I can feel my depression lifting. I’m excited about building my way back.

I have hope.