Given

My grandson asked me: “What blessing would you seek this morning?” I was washing the dishes of the previous night without any wishes. I sought, therefore, to continue as I was. “Wash the dishes?” he laughed,  asked me to bend, placed his hand on my head and solemnly said, “So be it”. What else could a man nearing eighty want, in his frail diabetic frame, still able to move about and watch beautiful sunsets? Isn’t life great with the hills outside basking in ethereal sunshine? Isn’t it a blessing to listen to birds singing melodious strains? Stroke the plants and talk to them, walk in rain, listen to  streams, all for free, look at the sky leaning on a wayside tree, knowing everything here is a big ‘given’, well provided, when wants are short and the ego is laid to rest. And who then worries about the last breath when the corporeal mass that heaves sans rest is a boon ‘given’ that just comes by without asking on an unending journey?