Mercy Me

The other night Teen Angel and I were sitting on the sofa talking, and somehow we got around to the subject of how I used to read to her every night when she was young. In fact, it was something I started before she left the womb and continued until sometime in her fourth grade school year. The last books we read together were Harry Potter books, and over the years our favorites included the Berenstein Bears, Corduroy the Bear, Little Critter, The Velveteen Rabbit and the hilarious Junie B. Jones. Reading a story every night was mandatory, and when she was little, if you were tired and tried to skip a few words to get through it quickly, she would say, “No,” and turn back the page insisting I read it the right way. Even though she couldn’t read, she had those books memorized and knew if you missed one little word. She loved those books, and that time together each night was one of my favorite parts of being a mother.


As we reminisced the other night, she jumped up, ran to her room and pulled out one of her old books, The Spooky Little Ghost. She read parts of it to me, laughing and imitating the way I used to read to her. I was always a bit dramatic, you see. “Here’s the part where you’d get all excited,” she said, raising her voice, and as she read and giggled I got a bit lost in the moment. I was listening to her, but my mind was running down memory lane. I thought about all those nights we read and chatted, and how fast those years flew. I thought about how grateful I am that she and I are close enough that we can sit and talk and giggle like we did back then over the same books. And those memories brought me great joy.

It was also a reminder to focus more on the day to day joys of life. I supposed the grief I’ve been dealing with lately has left me dwelling on the not so fun parts of life. In the midst of mailing death certificates, writing thank you notes for funeral flowers and fixing broken radiator hoses (again) it’s been easy to get mired down in difficulties and challenges. I have forgotten how blessed I am and how much joy is actually in my life. Long after Teen Angel got up off the couch and went about her business, I sat there and forced myself to count my blessings. There were many. We are all healthy, we’re financially stable, Teen Angel is doing fine in college and Papa T. is adjusting okay to living without Mama J. I told myself that I should make a list more often of the things that bring me joy. Even the small things. Today’s list?

-Hubby loaded up Papa T. and an old buddy of Papa T.’s and took them to one of their favorite restaurants for some lunch together and storytelling about old times. His buddy doesn’t see well enough to drive, so Hubby had to chauffer. Papa T. seems to want to have more of a social life, and that’s exciting.

-Mama and Daddy are headed to a bluegrass festival for a little weekend trip together, and I love that they enjoy each other as much as they when they got married. They especially enjoy music together, and daddy plays guitar with a band at the local veteran’s hospital and senior centers. They are happy, and I like that.

-After a meeting at church last night, I was reminded yet again of how caring and dedicated my church family is.

-My brothers are especially happy in their personal lives right now. (Maybe more details on that later.)

-This song makes me dance in the kitchen:

 
-And the blooms on the sunflowers just up the road are hangin’ in there.


Perhaps, I should make it a habit to write this stuff down every day. And read that before I go to bed.