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I Love Mondays        My Gratitude Coach

By Sandra Woo, [email protected]

 “If you had six healthy months to live, what would you do differently?”

I pondered that provocative question as a prosperous single woman. The economy was in free-fall, our workforce was being whittled, and work consumed increasing amounts of my joy. I had little time for loved ones, no patience for rest, and no appreciation for the unseen blessings in my life.  

I started to list the changes I would make if faced with a life-threatening illness. I recalled favorite people, and activities, and determined to put them higher on my priority list. I felt a burst of hope during the exercise, then filed the list away.

Two weeks later, I received a ninety-day notice that my position had been eliminated. Tears slid down my cheeks. Rejection clouded my perspective. Fear temporarily erased all memory of the list I had completed just days earlier.

I left more than a job behind. I had invested twenty-four-years of time, talent, friendship and creativity. I grieved the loss of my former life and had no plan for my future.

On the first Monday of my new life, I was invited to stay with my twelve-year-old nephew, Nile.  His parents were traveling for a week and they asked me to help get Nile ready for school. I had no way of knowing God had selected Nile as my teacher.

 He was born with a condition called hydrocephalus. His brain processed information differently.  He responded to questions slowly and savored the details of life. Nile’s smile was the first and last impression he made on everyone.

 On our first morning together, I knocked on Nile’s door and prompted him to get ready for school. I heard him laugh.

“Nile,” I asked him from the hallway. “What are you laughing about?  What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.  “I guess I’m just happy. I love Mondays.”

“Who loves Mondays? I want to be like you when I grow up,” I said and joined Nile in laughter.

We shared a love for chocolate, and baked some homemade brownies. With a mouth full of yumminess, I asked Nile a loaded question.

“Which do you like better--chocolate, or Auntie Sandy?” 

After a few moments of silence, a large smile dimpled his round cheeks.           “I like chocolate, AND you.” 

What a diplomat, I thought, and applauded his choice.  I couldn’t feel bad about tying for first place with a chocolate brownie. I returned the compliment.

“Nile, I like chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, AND you.”

Nile did not struggle for words. He looked at me, and without the customary processing delay, Nile replied.

“I like Valentine the dog, and you.”

I smiled back and responded. “ I like puppy breath, and you.”

“I like peanut butter sandwiches, and you,” he said.

“I like singing in the car, and you,” I replied.

“I like Disneyland, and you,” he challenged and waited.

I ran out of responses. I rarely practiced being grateful on purpose. I began to wonder what my life would be like if I actually focused on the good things.

Nile became my personal gratitude coach. For two years, he greeted me with highlights of his favorite things, and waited for my reply. One day, I thought I was wise and turned to Nile.

“Do you know it is God who gives us all these good things? Didn’t God give us a great day today?”

Nile hugged me and replied with true wisdom.

 “God gives us a great day every day! ”

Following Nile’s inspiration, I looked for good things on a regular basis. I began to find reasons to be thankful on days that were full of sunshine and chocolate. I found reasons to be thankful on days that were difficult too. I learned that it was possible to trust God for something good, even when the worst moments of your life come on Easter Sunday—as they did for my family.

I started that day with hopeful expectations at a sunrise service. I looked forward to spending the day with my family at Nile’s home.  Instead, I spent the day beside Nile’s hospital bed. A bacterial infection called MRSA had invaded his lungs. Pneumonia made it difficult for him to breath. With an oxygen mask covering his brilliant smile, and his eyes looking directly into mine, Nile whispered his gratitude for the day.

“I like Easter, I like chocolate, and I love you.”

I gave him a big hug; not knowing it was my last.

Nile’s final words expressed love, not fear, gratitude, not pain. Just before Midnight, he smiled and spoke to his parents, “Thank you for taking care of me.  I had a great day.”

Holding his mother’s hand, Nile fell asleep. Just before dawn, he woke in the arms of God.  It was a Monday.

Our family was crushed. The weight of that loss was like a tidal wave of grief. I took solace in writing stories, capturing memories, and recording the good things that God placed in each day. I missed my Gratitude Coach, but remembered his lessons. Most of the good things recorded in my journals reflect the love of others. Kind words, thoughtful acts, and generous gifts of time poured into our family from friends. Inexplicable joy remained.

The unexpected brevity of my nephew’s life made a hypothetical question more relevant.  What would I do differently, if I had six healthy months to live? I would appreciate my present life more. Find something beautiful every day, and share it with someone else.    Look into the eyes of people I love, and tell them what I like most about them.  Rejoice with people who have reasons to rejoice, and mourn with them when they suffer. Brighten somebody’s day using the most eloquent language of all-- a smile.

In spite of loss, and perhaps because of it, I learned that joy and gratitude go hand in hand. I am blessed, and therefore, thankful.  I am thankful, and therefore, blessed. Gratitude opened my eyes. Now I love Mondays too.

Biography:  Sandra is a freelance writer who enjoys walking along the beaches of California in the winter, and the shores of Flathead Lake in the summer.  She likes the smell of a pine forest, the brilliance of sunrise, and the taste of chocolate. She is most thankful for friends and family.