Counting Big Littles and Small Blessings

It's only the start of Wednesday and already it has been a busy week, but I'm here in the recent quiet of a newly deserted house with a few precious minutes to spare.  The rest of my family is where they need to be.  I'm in what can only be described as that happy place where the whole of the day ahead presents itself with all its potential.  Aside from the gloaming, this is the best part of every day in my book.

Miss Bit was the first to come down this morning.  She has a field trip to the EAA today and was filled with just a little anticipation.  I don't even think she likes airplanes all that much, but she's excited.  So eager that she was begging me to take her to school at 7:30 when she didn't have to be there until 8:00.  She is likely still a tad on top of the world from her celebrated contributions to her first softball game of the season.  No more outfield for our Bit.  She played short and first and well, and she had a game changing run that the coach and all her teammates gave her much credit for.  It was nice to see her getting the athletic accolades for a change.

T. Bone was happy to sub for a team last night despite the fact that as a substitute he must play outfield and bat last.  He has to miss tonight's game for his spring choir concert.  There's no question where he would rather be, but it is character building to keep commitments and sometimes do things you would rather not do.  Not to mention there are something like half a dozen games slated for this tournament weekend.

I have a funeral to attend this morning.  The elderly father of a friend passed on.  I believe it will be a very different attitude from the visitation I attended Monday.  Laid out in the casket was a 39 year old father of five.  These realities do not add any clarity to my relationship with death and dying, yet there is peace and rest in both cases.  Peace and relief and sadness and regret and maybe even a little joy.  How is that for complex?

A hawk just flew through my yard and dive bombed a chickadee.  No feathers flew.  The little bird narrowly escaped  the talons this time.  He was lucky.  I feel that way every morning when I wake up to the promise of a new day.