A Perfect Day






Perhaps it was the phone call from my dad checking up on me. Such love in his voice. Maybe it was the delightful laughter of young love coming from the kitchen as I sat embroidering. So many little things around me to fill me with a sense of a perfect day. Even now, the cool air of early afternoon drifts through the open windows and smells of heaven. It makes me wonder if the gentle breeze is the very breath of God as if He is holding me close just as a father would hold his child tenderly in his arms.
I am not just looking at the world with rose colored glasses on.
I know there is pain and suffering in the world, and that even today as I write, my step mother lay dying in her hospital bed. We grieve now for the loss of a way of life for her and for my father , but still there is life that is to be lived. With basket in hand I ventured outside, time to gather the most tender rosemary of early spring and the freshest mint, tender and fragrant. Huge bundles of parsley and the fallen rose petals. Each one such a gift. Asparagus shooting out of the earth as if they were arrows coming forth from some underworld.
When I was out there, my heart was filled with deep joy. Beyond happiness, deeper than that. It is pure contentment, the kind that will hold me steady through the difficult times in life.
The soapwort had spread and spread till it could no longer be ignored. With shovel in hand I carefully dug up clumps to be transplanted and thought about how its a bit like my blessings, they just keep growing and spreading. Around each corner another joy.
Now, here in the house, alone everyone else off working, Josh Groban is singing in Italian to me.
Now that is a perfect day.
Comments
Thank you for letting us share your lovely day with you! You write beautifully and really make us feel like we're right there with you!