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    Grit, Grace & Gratitude
    Grit, Grace & Gratitude
    Grit, Grace & Gratitude
    Ebook114 pages1 hour

    Grit, Grace & Gratitude

    By Lisa Cook

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCookie Jar Press
    Release dateMar 6, 2021
    ISBN9781736162507
    Grit, Grace & Gratitude

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      Book preview

      Grit, Grace & Gratitude - Lisa Cook

      Copyright 2020 by Lisa Cook

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author at lisacook.com

      Ordering Information:

      Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the author at the email above.

      Printed in the United States of America Grit, Grace & Gratitude : Lisa Cook

      ISBN – 978-1-7361625-3-8

      ISBN – 978-1-7361625-0-7 (e-book)

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      I - THE BEFORE

      II - THE LIFE YOU DIDN’T PLAN: SURVIVOR & THRIVER

      III - GRIT

      More Than Sweat

      God Really Is There

      Fantasyland

      The F Word

      Annoying Pebbles

      Goals Are For Dummies

      Who’s Living Your Life?

      Stay In Your Lane

      Wearing Grit on Your Sleeve

      Problems

      Surviving The Storm

      IV - GRACE

      Swimming Downstream

      Jewish From My Parents’ Side

      Sign, Signs. Everywhere There Are Signs

      Wings Of Faith

      Winds Of Grace

      Compassion: Grace In Action

      Two Sides Of The Same Grace

      A Vessel Of Love

      Flowing With Grace

      My Hope for Your Me Too

      Grace’s Toolbox

      V -GRATITUDE

      How Does Grateful Feel?

      Arigato

      From Grateful to Letting Go

      Learning To Feel

      Gratitude Shame

      VI - EMBRACING GRIT, GRACE & GRATITUDE

      GRIT

      GRACE

      GRATITUDE

      CHAPTER I

      THE BEFORE

      Ithought I was like most people. I was married to a loving, kind husband. We had two kids - a boy and a girl - and of course a dog. We owned a nice home and lived in a beautiful part of the country. It felt like a normal life. Like most people, we worried about our kids, paying for college, finding time to sleep and, of course, what’s for dinner. I was lucky enough to stay home, which took me a while to adjust to, but once I did I really liked it and was grateful I could be there for my kids. But here’s the thing; none of that normal was what I thought.

      In the spring of 2014, something started to feel off at home. My husband was nearing fifty and not happy about his next big decade. I was frustrated with his discontent at work. We had been married for almost fifteen years so maybe a little boredom and mid-life reflection was sitting in. I wasn’t sure. We weren’t talking as much or even doing things together like we used to. He always seemed preoccupied. He was home every night; that was good. He would sometimes travel for work and loved going to our kids’ activities, but something wasn’t right.

      Fast forward a few years to the spring of 2016. Now I know something really isn’t right. My husband was drinking every night- just wine -so that means he isn’t an alcoholic right? He wouldn’t really interact at all with me or my kids after dinner. He was on his phone all the time and didn’t seem interested in any future plans. It was weird. Looking back, there were so many clues as to what was happening but as I was plodding through this muck on a daily basis, it didn’t seem unusual, just frustrating. We were busy adults with busy lives.

      It was more than that. . .

      I began to see sides of my husband I had never seen before.

      He became almost manic where he couldn’t control his fear about money. He became a child, in a weird way, like wanting to find as many golf balls as possible on the golf course by our house.

      He didn’t golf.

      He seemed afraid of everything and everyone. It’s hard to explain now but at the time it was both painful and embarrassing. So, I wasn’t telling anyone. And the one or two people I WAS telling didn’t understand at all, so I just felt more confused.

      We progressed through the summer of 2016 with him deciding to start a business, cutting back on the VP of Sales job he did have. He had basically quit drinking and was redesigning his current job for an exit strategy. All with a little-to-no-good strategy and under an air of anxiousness and insecurity I’d never seen before.

      One day in September, he texted me and said, I think I’m going to go ask for my old job back. They deserve a sober Dave. Now I didn’t realize it at that moment, but later that night I couldn’t sleep (which never happens). I got up and looked at my phone and realized he didn’t say you and the kids deserve a sober man. I was pissed.

      I told him in the morning that I was upset and he reacted with the, No, no. That’s not what I meant and also, I don’t care what you think. I just want to work.

      This went on for a month. He couldn’t sleep, he was struggling to get his job and status back, he didn’t want to start a business. Every day for me was a guess as to who was going to show up.

      A child?

      A mad man?

      A sad man?

      Or all of the above in a five-minute span?

      The life I had been living was crumbling behind closed doors. Yet I felt like there was no one I could talk to because I didn’t want anyone to know his struggles. Or judge my seemingly great life.

      And then it crumbled. Hard. On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, a doctor gave him a different sleeping medication. He called me and said, I’m taking this and then going to try to get some sleep. This was at noon.

      Ok, I thought. That’s good. But at two o’clock that afternoon I got another text from him. He wasn’t sleeping, instead he was climbing. The text was a picture from on top of a rock - ironically or accurately - called Suicide Rock. Under the photo he sent was the question, I don’t think it’s high enough. Do you?

      High enough for what? I texted.

      To jump, he replied.

      What the hell?!?!?

      He came home about two hours later acting like nothing was wrong and that he was just kidding around. I told him he needed to find a therapist – for real - not just visit with someone and then say, I don’t like them, or I went once and they didn’t fix me. He huffed and walked off.

      The next day, Wednesday, was the day before Thanksgiving. I got up as usual wondering what the day had in store. By this time, I had started getting up early to run so that I could get my head on straight before his whirlwind of emotions kicked in.

      As I was shuffling around in the kitchen putting dishes away and pretending to be busy, Dave looked at me and said, Do you really want to know the truth?

      Yes, I said.

      OK, but you can’t scream at me, hit me, leave me or anything else crazy you may want to do. I’m telling you all this so that you know the truth and don’t think it’s your fault.

      That what’s my fault?

      When I die, I don’t want you to think it had anything to do with you.

      Now I’m really wondering what’s

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