Tabitha Ziggas

Title of Tip: Catch a Leaf, Smell a Flower 

Name: Tabitha Ziggas, 39

Description: Enjoy the little things. Have fun with whatever you are doing. I can go fishing and catch a 30 lb catfish or a 5 lb leaf. Either way, I am happy. If you are walking and see something, stop and check it out. Watch a mom and her child walk down the street and talk. Some people don’t have that, never did have it, or never will have it. Take the time and appreciate it regardless of whether it’s yours. Know that you could have it if you wanted it bad enough. Find the beauty in the little things that happen around you. Take a second to explore and see what you can see. Maybe somebody lost something, and they cherished it, so perhaps you will like it too.

I have a baby harmonica around my neck and love the stupid little thing. I don’t know why; I just do. If people paid attention, they would appreciate it a lot more. Life can be gone just like that. I lost my stepdaughter, my boyfriend, and my kids’ dad, all within a close time frame. I know how precious life is. There’s nothing like losing your child, and there’s nothing like having to tell your two, four, and six-year-old that their daddy just died. Those are the worst feelings in the world. But you have to remember the good stuff.

Instructions: Everything smells. I mean, the stairs smell, the walls smell, the flowers smell. Stop and smell it. It can take you back to a time you enjoyed or to a time you did not enjoy (but sometimes that will help you through it). Everything has a texture. Feel things around you. I was petting a plant. I don’t know why; it was just cute, and I was petting it. Touch everything (within reason, of course). It could feel hard like a rock, rough like sandpaper, smooth like a pebble, or silky like a flower. Life can sometimes be soft, smooth, or rough, like sandpaper. I like it when it’s silky, but the sandpaper helps you get to that smoothness. You have to rough it up before you get it polished.

Enjoy your peace of mind, even if it’s just for an hour, a day, or five minutes. Slow down. A lot of little problems are made worse by people freaking out about them. Realize that your problems are not the end of the world. Take a deep breath, figure out the problem and how you can solve it. Rather than saying, “Oh my God, I can’t do this,” ask yourself, “Okay, what can’t you do?” “Well, I can’t ride the bus.” “Well, why can’t you ride the bus?” Take a step back, walk through it step by step, and you can probably ride the bus. Realize that everything can be lost quickly; you could go to Walmart and come home, and your kid could not be there anymore. That’s what happened to me. When you realize that, you stop and breathe and pay attention to everything around you. You may not have another little argument with them. You may not have another memory. You may not have another birthday. You may not have anything with them ever again. So just slow down and take your time. Appreciate what you have because it can be gone in a second, in a millisecond.

Learning: My grandmother taught me how to appreciate the small things. She did not have much growing up, and neither did my mom. They had no money to go to the movies or buy fancy clothes. We would go to the park and put pennies on the railroad tracks. We went down to the creek, walked around, and picked up rocks to paint. My mom would pack little picnics, and we would go to the railroad tracks, sit there, eat our little lunch, and play around.

Story: I got hit with charges. I went into a residential program. Then I came home, and I only had six weeks before I was getting shipped off to prison. I said screw it, I’m going out, I’m having fun, and I’m enjoying this little bit of time. So, I went camping every night. I was down by the river, fishing every day. I was catching stupid leaves bigger than your head, and I was happy. And I was spending time with my kids. Because I knew that for the next 15 months, I would miss out on everything, I tried to soak it all up so that I could hold on to it while I was sitting in prison.