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A Crown of Clouds
23 May 2017
Today is a special day around here. Mom turns 90. And as we prepare for the party, we find ourselves reflecting on a life that has endured nine decades.
It isn't for the complainers, obviously. They wear themselves (and others) out early. And it isn't for the predators either. They never outrun the wheel of justice.
But it would be silly to pretend it's all roses.
Life is not easy. It's unnerving to think, when you are young, that you will never matter to anyone else. And it's crippling to find out you have outlived the one you loved who loved you. In between there are children (whether your own or not) to herd and who grow into adults you never hear from.
And you bear all this with grace. Because you never thought anything about life was easy and you were always strong.
Your reward has been to take such small pleasures that no one ever seemed to notice. A newborn wriggling awake. Sauce on a wooden spoon. The smell of clean laundry. A ride in the country. Your roses in bloom.
And those joys were not, strictly speaking, taken, but shared. There was no indulgence about them. They multiplied among others.
That's the way you live a long life without becoming a burden to others. You see the clouds as a crown.
Happy Birthday, Mom. May sunset just promise you another day to share with us.