Spilled wine

I tripped carrying my wine glass to my chair this evening.  In horror, I watched my favorite wine glass fall to the floor shattering and splattering red wine over the beautiful furniture my Dad had made, the contents of my bookshelf, and even the corner of my Grandma's quilt.  Pink and white glass mixed with the red wine sprawled across the floor.  I took a deep breath, let a few tears fall, started to clean up the damage, and then sent a quick text to my sister.  

Over the next few minutes I went back and forth between my text messages and the damage, cleaning and communicating.  It was so nice to not only let my feelings flow but also have someone virtually with me as I cleaned up.

Now I sit cornered in my chair with the floors all around me freshly swept and mopped, smelling like Fabuloso.  And I'm thankful.  I'm thankful for me and my capacity to fully exist in this moment.  And I'm thankful for my sister who from hundreds of miles away witnessed my emotions and virtually stood with me.