It is cool in the mornings, or, this morning is cool and I want to remember this coolness as the neighbor's air conditioner kicks on, whirring loudly, heard through the patio slider which is open.
There is a unique tempo to the days in this time of life. The early mornings spent unloading and reloading the dishwasher, putting clothes in the washer and dryer, folding, putting away, making beds, sweeping floors, pulling weeds which have pushed through the patio cracks and sweeping off the patio. Setting out trash and the recyclables.
Dylan sleeps in as my brother-in-law and I talk over coffee in the living room. He spent the night in the guest room. His mother is in the ICU at the University Hospital. She was left to lay on a basement floor for fourteen hours with six cracked ribs and a contusion to the back of her head. His father tried to move her and did not know what to do and is sorry that he did not call 911. He tried to make her comfortable. He made a mistake. Two old people, both in their eighties, living alone. This is what happens sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes.
He is gone now and the house is quiet except for a bird singing outside and the rhythm of the dryer. This is a good time of life where more time is freed to do what one pleases and financially there is a measure of security (false security perhaps, but security). It is a time when one looks ahead and can either see nothing but darkness, a waning of days to decrepitude or one can choose to see lightness and have hope, why not.
As much as I will miss the boys and the busyness that surrounded those days, they are days which are gone, never to be retrieved and what do we have? Today. And today is a good day, no, it is a glorious day and right now, it is the only day I have.
"Commit everything you do to the Lord,
Trust him, and he will help you." Psalm 37:5