A Day of Colors

The day was colors. A yellow sunrise. Blue sky and crimson leaves. A room of white-haired ladies. Emerson’s pink cheeks against a green playground.

The day was beautiful.

It made my heart ache with gratitude.

Today was a break from my usual routine of autumn. The weather was sunny instead of  rainy. I spoke at a church luncheon instead of my usual routine of exercise and writing.

And the day was sprinkled with small pleasures.

I woke early and wrote most of my word count goal before my daughters were even out of bed.

I was early to the speaking engagement, so I stopped at Starbucks. I had the exact amount of change in the bottom of my purse for a skinny cappuccino. Yes, down to the exact penny.

The speaking engagement at church was delightful – the women asked wonderful questions and I felt surrounded in love and good-wishes. The sweet woman seated next to me at lunch told me after her marriage of twenty-five years ended abruptly it opened her to new possibilities and changed her into the person she was meant to be. I felt understood.

I found the exact perfect present for my new love at the very first store I went to. I cannot wait to give it to him.

When Emerson came home from school we painted our fingernails and talked of nothing and everything.

Then, my ex-husband picked up the girls for their standard Wednesday evening with him. A year ago it still hurt each time they left. They would both cling to me longer than was normal for a hug goodbye and I would fight tears as I watched them get into his car. After they drove away I would walk upstairs and stare  into my empty hands and wonder, how did it come to this? How is this my life?

Today, I didn’t even walk them down to their dad’s waiting car. And they ran off without even a glance back, shouting, “I love you, Mom.” I called back the same, but continued sweeping the kitchen floor, sun streaming in through the kitchen window, knowing how much fun the evening will be for them – pizza and seeing their dog and catching up their dad on their antics. I felt peace and acceptance. This is my life. This is their life. It is what it is and we are all fine.

Today was a good day. Nothing remarkable or spectacular – just small moments that added up to joy.

I’ve had my share of bad, as we all have. I’ve been brought me to my knees from news unimaginable. I’ve suffered grief and loss and heartbreak so difficult I could not imagine ever feeling anything but despair. And yet, somehow I made it through to a day like today – a day of colors and hope and simple gladness that I am alive and well. Just as you have, dear reader.

So now I will go sit on my porch and soak in the lovely evening light and the brilliant blue of the sky against orange and red leaves.My new love is coming for dinner. We’re grilling steaks and there is brown rice and spinach salad and maybe a glass (or two) of Estrin Estate Cabernet. How grateful I am for these simple pleasures. They are, I have come to understand, part of the deeper meaning of life, perhaps the only meaning. To love one another and appreciate the small, simple gifts – this is all we can do. Perhaps this is all we should do.

At the end of my life, I do not know if I will remember these moments of color like I do the dark ones. Perhaps all the good blends in together and we think only, I was happy a lot. I had a good life, a beautiful life. I loved a lot. And I was loved back. How I hope for this.

I wish for you a day tomorrow like I had today, where more is beautiful than difficult. If it is, perhaps stop, just once or twice, and take it all in –the colors and the nuances and the small moments of joy and beauty and love. Hold them in your hands for as long as you can. Memorize them in your heart for the next day that rains.