He blesses me.
1. The weather here in Boston has been less than summery, which I’m not all that grateful for. However, on Sunday, we turned the whole grey, rainy, despair-inducing pattern to our advantage. Matt came to visit for the weekend and we slept in mightily. Coffee was made and fiction was read. Bread was baked and so were cookies, of the chocolate chip variety. Emily came by and read as well. Eventually we put on some Deadwood and sat, awash in the violent, profane and obscene, realizing that for all the funk of life, this is a story about people who love each other. John B got back from PA and joined us for Thai food and more Deadwood.
I climbed into bed early and full and pleased with a day spent entirely indoors.
2. My mom and dad are facing some tough realities about getting old and health and living and working and dying. Again, not all that grateful for that, though I can imagine a person of flintier character than my own mustering some gratitude for hard lessons being learned. My mom sent me an e-mail about the steps they might take to welcome others into their home, spending their “declining years” in close-knit community. She also wrote this:
We think when we live in our own little castle that we are immune to acting out our sinful nature...why test my patience with living with others when I can live alone and I only have myself to make happy or not happy?
My Mom only had 4 more years of life when she was my age. I want them to be years filled with a deep connection with God and those around me.
I’m so incredibly impressed with and proud of my parents.
3. Max, my barista, teased me about getting the same damn thing everyday. Joy.