Lisa-Jo Baker gives the word every Friday; we write for five minutes. Today it’s “grateful.”
Prologue: Definition? I’m saying anything from a simple glad — glad this happened, glad this exists, glad to have, to know, to have seen, to have escaped, to anticipate — to a thanksgiving directed toward the divine eternal creator who spoke goodness into being and continues to fill the world and us with it.
For this day, unlike any before or to come. For the sun’s faithfulness in rising every morning. For coworkers who bake. For the tenacious necks of my bean seeds. For the grace of the friend and newbie gardener who is sharing a plot with me and tolerates my strong opinions. For a thousand and one gifts from Mom, and probably that many from Dad, too, though I’m just beginning to count. That he and I mended things a few years ago. That I was able to be with him at the end. That I was able to be with Peggy at the end. For family. My brother’s memory, the ways he echoes Mom. For my daughter, that she’s found the love of a good man, for the life they are building. So many friends, and the fabric of our relationships, even and especially the one whose fabric is itchy tweed. For my iPhone camera. For when people tell me my morning pictures mean something to them. For cinnamon and coffee and bacon. For walking, and sweat, and showers. For cleansing laughter and cleansing tears. For my cat, even and especially her alarm clock function. For sight and sense and sound and taste and touch. For the lullaby of last night’s rain sewn into the wet hem of this morning’s jeans. For memory and metaphor. For my job, and being required to show up among people. For the Sunday lunch bunch. And for the good things in this day, yet to come.
Epilogue: Well, this is exactly were I was and where I started out when I started this blog.