Armed with a recorded book on cds from the library, Jim and I rode a slow road home yesterday. We did not leave Mama until after 10 am so we knew we would hit traffic in the afternoon when we reached Richmond. And we did. Four to six lanes of heavy traffic that did not break for several hours. Outside the car - traffic. Inside the car - a Ken Follett novel and the search to discover where the Nazis have hideen a radar base in Denmark..
Riding in and out of heavy rain also slows the road.
Just as a heavy heart slows you down.
So today I am looking for three beautiful things
1. When Jim and I went to Einstein's for a sandwich I stood behind three laughing boys at the serve your own soda machine and watched them splashing a dash from each spigot into their cups to concoct a new and better personal soft drink. "I think mine is going to be the best." one said. They jostled and bumped against each other and giggled.
2. A plump red tomato hangs on our tomato plant in the back yard. Those of you who have gardens or who are experienced "growers" might not understand our joy at our first red juicy tomato from the back yard. For us - this is BIG.
3. Thanks to my little red cell phone I heard this story first hand from my sister who was on the road heading home - south to Georgia. At 4:30 am this morning- in the black dark of early morning - she and her husband Johnny hit a deer on an Indiana highway. What's beautiful about that? They were not hurt!
The deer is dead - and their car is wrecked. Tney were in Kentucky when I talked with her. She said they were continuing on in a rental car - " one of those little cars that is one step above a ride-on lawn mower" - while their car is being repaired.
Kathy, I just loved that lawn-mower quip - had to use it. What's really beautiful to me is your sense of humor and the way you turn a phrase. I remember the first time you cracked a joke - your were about four - we were walking home from Granny's one evening with Mama and Daddy - I think we were on Laurel Avenue. We all laughed - and you haven't stopped since.
2 comments:
Ellouise, I understand your heavy heart. It's so difficult to be able to do nothing more than watch as someone we love slides away. But it is what we must do, and do with a cheerful face and conversation. You are in my prayers, friend.
Thanks, Granny Sue. You do understand.
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