An Ordinary Day

May 19, 2016

The day began like most of my days begin--in my sunroom swivel rocker with a pot of coffee and my iPad, Sadie napping close by, patiently waiting for her breakfast and morning walk.  I played Words with Friends, read an editorial comparing Trump's successful tactics to those of the Fascists', and then watched a couple of You Tube videos--a muskrat that could escape any enclosure and a bull that was unchained for the first time in his life, dancing and rolling in pure joy. 

The day progressed--breakfast and a walk for the two of us. I washed the sheets and put them back on the bed, and wrote a birthday email to a grandchild who's had a rough start in life.  

I made three trips to Nelda's.  The first was to return the polka dot glasses she had loaned me for my Sunday school party I hosted the night before.  The second was to try out her new foot vibrator to see how it made my legs feel.  The third was to pick her up for a concert that ended our day.  

The afternoon was spent, as every Thursday afternoon is spent, at my Thursday Group, which is always a warm and meaningful time.  

One of the Group members, Beth, was singing in a concert that night at the First Presbyterian church, so Nelda and I went.  We sat down across the aisle from Beth's son, a talented, gorgeous, brilliant young man who was visiting from California with his girlfriend.  The concert, Teach the World to Sing, was only an hour long, mostly a cappella.  Eighteen gorgeous voices, perfectly blended.  I closed my eyes through much of it to avoid distractions and really hear the music, a trick I learned from Hobart.  

It occurred to me on the way home what an extraordinary, ordinary day it had been.  I think it was Maya Angelou who said, "Never underestimate the value of an ordinary day." She's always right.  My day was filled with ordinary experiences--clean sheets, green lawns and flower beds, humorous videos, thoughtful articles, beautiful music, friends.  Ordinary?  Yes.  But a rich, wonderful day.  

Joy.