Lucky Me
There’s a lot of mourning going on these days. People I know are passing left and right. The old crowd is getting smaller. Inevitable but still distressing. I do what I can to help those learning the pain of loss but it’s a solitary journey. I had counseling, I had group, I had friends. But is it The Plan? Hard to say. I think my youth held the key for me. We moved a lot and I learned to adapt. So, I’ve adapted now.
And I find myself less eager to talk about the death of my wife as time goes on. I guess it’s a what’s done is done sort of thing. Me moaning about it changes nothing. Besides I like being happy and I have people with whom I’m happy. Take my daughter’s little kids. I got pictures yesterday of them bouncing in their new pool. I was ready to get in the car and drive to Virginia. And my oldest grandson called to wish me happy birthday and sent pictures from a Cardinal’s game because we both love baseball.
And this morning, as I walk outside, there’s dew on the grass, the promise of rain, and the grass is still green. In July. The big Crape Myrtle is dusting everything with pink flowers dropping from the tree. The drive is covered and the porch and even my car. And the Marie Pavia rose is blooming. Soft little white flowers. The hummingbirds are feeding on the Turks caps, dropping in and out. Sitting in the tree to rest. As Mister Rogers would say, It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. And I’m lucky to be here to see it, and I’m looking as hard as I can.