Some Days

Some days are simply stellar. Everything that can go wrong, goes right. The cup of coffee you left on the roof of the car when you started to drive away was still on the roof of the car when you remembered it. The library called to say they found $100 you left in your library book, do you want to come pick it up? You children sat too quietly while you prepared dinner. The reason? They worked together to draw you a picture of them gathered around you, all smiling.
Your husband gave you a foot massage while you watched “Grey’s Anatomy,” a show he calls a Chick Flick.
Some days are disasters. The mail contains all advertisements, bills, and a notice from the IRS that you underpaid your taxes two years ago; you now owe taxes and penalties due within thirty days. Your vacation plans have to be cancelled because your daughter developed the chicken pox (What do you mean the immunization doesn’t provide 100% protection?). You have an argument with your spouse over recent credit charges then take a call from his mother who wants to discuss her recipe for bread pudding. Finally, someone backed into your car, and though you know things could be worse - no one was hurt - the garage gave you a repair estimate of over $2000. When, at last, you go to take a long, relaxing soak in a hot bath, you find the water heater is broken and there is neither heat nor not water. Oh, what a day.
Today sat squarely in the middle. My day had a high content of emotional upheaval. Many people I love found their lives adversely affected by holiday expectations. I talked to several friends who are gingerly trying to make their way across those turbulent waters. In addition, I attended the funeral service for a close friend’s father. Some of the speakers did not shine. My friend’s reading about her father and the part of her that heart he claimed as his was tremendously moving. Still, it was a gathering precipitated by loss. Never easy. My day was made infinitely brighter due to the return to the nest by my two older children.
My days feel somehow more balanced when my children are all in the same zip code. I worry less about the knocks and bruises life may deliver when my children are safe and accounted for. While there were some disappointments in the fabric of this day, on whole, it was balanced. The secret inner joy I carry when my children are home, and in my presence, is of a magnitude that outshines most any of life's petty concern.
I heard the weather report for tomorrow. Heavy downpours are predicted. They won’t bother me. I will be warm and dry and have a great day because, for the first time in months, my entire family will be home -- healthy and under one roof. The day before Thanksgiving promises to be a day for thanks giving.