Easter Sunday. Our family is scattered–Sara and Sean in Los Angeles; Grace in Bayside; Brett, Susan and the kids spending time with Susan’s family; Erick writing a paper for nursing school; Bryan visiting his Mom.
I am torn–my husband decides to stay at the hospital; I decide to take Dad to see my brother and his family in Connecticut.
I drive back across the county from the nursing home and see the first true sign of spring in our neighborhood…
Weir’s–home of the very best homemade ice cream on earth–is open for business!
MINDFUL
Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light,
It is what I was born for–
to look, to listen,
to loose myself
inside this soft world–
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant–
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teaching
as these–
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
– MARY OLIVER –
Happy Easter! We missed you!
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