The first day he was gone I overslept by two full hours. The second day my car wouldn't start. That night the dishwasher nearly exploded, forcing me to manhandle the much feared circuit breaker box. As my Gigi liked to say, "That'll learn ya."
Yet in the midst of all the chaos this month, I have been gifted moments of peace.
A rare walk thru the early morning drizzle with my wolf-like puppy.
These two, always.
Even these times.
Actually…. especially these times.
My drive home through pink light.
There was also a recent moment when I fled my desk, this stack of paper, and the inane, incessant late Friday chatter of my co-workers. I walked into the break room just as the rainy clouds parted and the fridge stopped humming. The sudden sun and silence were damn near spiritual.
It is a mystery to me why these moments come - what slight shift in the brain chemistry allows me to find beauty in fleeting moments while other days I'm left gritting my teeth and slurping coffee. Perhaps I'm being too cynical in assuming it is chemical, and should just be grateful my cold, old heart can still find magic in the world. Even on the odd day.