Maybe life seems hard because we assume it should be easy. We fashion ideas of how things should be and we pin those ideas to our hearts as if they belong to us. They don’t, really.
What we do have is the morning, with its promise that something magical might happen that day. Actually attaining some sort of wonderful day doesn’t really matter—it’s the promise that helps us practice our daily measure of hopefulness.
Things are decided in the morning.
Take this morning’s coffee, for instance. My cup was full, steaming with a good measure of chocolate and creamer to make it extra yummy. Dan sat across the table enjoying his own coffee. His was black. We chatted about the news, laughed over a YouTube video, poured a second cup of coffee. Birds chirped and danced about on the patio. The dogs snoozed. Everything was sweet and delicious, just like my coffee.
Then in a blink, it struck me that for all those long minutes I had forgotten about the mass of cancer that squats on the floor of Dan’s left lung.
In two days, Dan will receive a lobectomy, and that nasty spot of cancer will be removed. I expect his surgery to be followed by many years of more delicious magic spent over cups of coffee and morning sun coming through the window. For all the other notions that may have flitted through my head this morning, the understanding that each day holds a promise that is unique to any other day, was the highest and most important thought.
Like a fingerprint…or a snowflake…each day is its own.
And that’s what was decided this morning!
My best to you all as your own day unfolds with its promises and magic…and maybe an extra cup of coffee to linger over. Whatever it is for you, I hope you’ll find the loveliness of your day. I know Dan and I found ours.