Afterthoughts
Every morning, I get up slowly, take out my two little dogs, and make my coffee. If you’ve read my book, you already know that since the loss of my daughter, this quiet time is important to me. I especially enjoy getting up early when it’s still dark out and I can sit in the darkness and silence with my warm cup in my hands. I still curl up with my feet underneath me. A window in the room is a must because I need to watch the darkness slowly turn to light. This is ordinary time. This is how I psych myself up for the day.
Though this is me, I do envy those who bounce out of bed ready to hit the shower or get dressed and run errands. I even envy those with appetite. I wish I was a morning soul excited to take on the day.
I’ve had many losses in my life as many of us who have reached the status of senior citizen have. I need to sit and feel my pain, give myself a pep talk (I’m very practiced at this) and then move my muscles. Depending on my schedule and my mood this time can vary, but it usually works to get me off the couch. At times I think about sad news or something that’s hurting someone I love or care about. But I know where this pep talk takes me. I’m grateful for every little bit if life that brings joy or hope. I am grateful for time that feels ordinary or uneventful.
I am thinking of minor things we take for granted like a cool October breeze or mums and pumpkins on the porch. I remember the voice of a friend or a warm hug. These days I think about the love I receive from my grandsons. I hold on to anything that brings even a second of peace or contentment. So, when the bad stuff happens, allow yourself to feel the pain and then after a bit, let the gratitude you have stored away in your heart infuse your being. Move your muscles and do what you had previously planned for the day. So, I pray for an ordinary mundane day. I want to be average in my pursuits. For those reading these words, I hope you have an average day. It doesn’t have to be a great day. It’s just a day.
