6.07.2010

This Is Life

The clothes are all folded, pulled from the washline outside as the sun dried them throughout the afternoon, but not yet put away in closets where they're supposed to be. The fish tank is cleaned, looking rather fresh after the green that had slowly developed over the past month. The guinea pigs are munching on green beans, their cage filled with hay, their water bottle fresh and cool. The dishes are all washed, but not towel dried, and the stove is free of dinner grease and the table free of food spills. Erwin is snuggling in bed as Jari flutters off to dreamland, after a day of school and then playing with a friend. Kaeden gave me his goodbye kiss this morning as the bus hauled him away to his home away from home for the week, his bag full of prized possessions draped over his shoulder. The walls are all painted, fresh and clean, and I gaze at them again and again, a satisfaction overcoming me in the cleanliness. Emails have been sent to wish Happy Birthdays to friends, another to the doctor asking for prescriptions. My agenda faces me on the desk, knitting out my week ahead.

This is life. Just these little tasks and chores and the everyday stuff that comes with living. Watering my flowers and feeling the excitement as they grow. Sweeping off the deck outside knowing the rain will come tonight and wash the remains away. Turning on the kettle to boil water for a cup of tea. Lighting a scented candle and watching the flame make shadows on the wall, fresh and oatmeal white.

It's the little things. Life is not a flaming ball of perfection. It isn't as much fun as opening a prettily wrapped surprise. It's not like two magnets attaching with a force that can't be parted. It's not like opening the mailbox and finding not only bills and ads, but also a hand-written letter saying hello. Or opening the inbox to find a quick note from a friend. It's not like walking into my home after a busy day of chores to hear the phone ringing and my mom's voice on the end of the line, and even though I really had no desire to talk to anyone, it's a feeling of comfort and acceptance.

So, though life may not always be wonderful, may not always be filled with happy surprises, it is life, and it is comfortable. I play games with my children, snuggle next to my husband, laugh with my friends, do what needs to be done...life is life...and mine is quite okay.

1 comment:

Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

And you depict it so beautifully in your writing. Sounds like a lovely end to a productive weekend!

P.S. I went to the warehouse and signed your book today! It should be shipping tomorrow. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy it!