The Gifts a Day Brings

What will this day bring - its gifts of lingering sunshine & flower storms, the thundering of xanthous hues, bright beams of crimson and green… What will this day bring - a knock or a ring, my feet go, the wheel teeters and totters, the pedals pressed for nearly an hour. A welcomed guest of my father. His tongue will not sputter, but will speak of his thoughts, memories and belong to me for a lick of time. I lean into his smile, his voice, his melodious sadness at times, lessened by the years. Who can cry anymore, only resign to loss. He always compliments on the scent of the familial cooking even before it reaches his nose - a habit I suppose. I learn, only from subtleness of his likes, for Dad is not given to complaints. He will not hide his ills but neither does he spill all his aches and pains out like a feeble man for he is of strong stock, not given to the sport that some old people tote. He climbs the stairs each day - his computer, clarinet, and boxes of stuff are there - my husband thinks his things must catch air, be sorted, thrown out, before they become our load to carry. My spouse thought our kids stuff should have been taken when they left - not realizing, life doesn’t work that way. There is staying power in life and death, wheeling & dealing in its time, not ours. Settle in, stay on course, make the most of the Summer weather. Oh the gifts a day brings - knocks & rings, a traffic storm, pasta shopping, saucy & cheesy bubbling, dusting and vacuuming. I live for such productive lingerings - blessings. 6/27/2023