The day wasn’t marked by going out to eat or breakfast in bed or knick knack gifts. It was an ordinary day in many ways: I mowed the lawn. I went to my youngest son’s baseball game. I watched Gilmore Girls, Season 3 Disc 1 first two episodes with my youngest daughter. My eldest daughter called to tell me she is the recipient of a creative writing scholarship. My eldest son announced he had been accepted at three different colleges and with partial scholarships to each. My father-in-law called and my children called my mom after which I spoke to both of my parents.
What made it special? That it was so ordinary. No drama. Just simple kindnesses that have been a part of our lives for much of the past year since we finally restored some sanity into our world.
I love mowing the lawn. I love to fiddle around with dirt and a shovel. Taking a shower feels so good after that and when you walk back outside in sandals and peddle pushers to see your youngest child pitch and work hard at playing ball….his next older sibling having walked him to the park so I could shower first…and there she is…beautiful, reading a book and plugged in (iPod) with my husband having cleaned the mower for me….holding my hand…..it doesn’t get any better than this.
London broil, a Caesar salad and a glass of wine. Now the hummingbird feeder is rinsing and drying to be filled tomorrow as more rain arrives to naturally shower the gardening done today.
That’s for me though. Right now some woman, some child, some human being somewhere is hurting or not knowing what tomorrow will bring. They are someone’s child, someone’s mother, someone’s family.
I don’t take my day for granted. My parents themselves made difficult choices including moving far away from family to make a difference in their lives, my life before they even knew I’d be born to them.
Today I wish a day like mine for every family. One without drama and one with reflection on where we’ve been, where we are and what we envision for the future. Then I pray someone somewhere will reach out a hand because I do know, quite personally, that that’s really what some of us need that would make a difference.
For today I gave my son a hand. Runners on first and third and he strikes out two in a row. Walks the next. Bases loaded….a soft pop up right back to him….he catches it…and he shrugs like no big deal. Bless this little boy who was born 8 weeks premature on my birthday 11 years ago.
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