Here I am at the end of the day reading reflections of a normal day. I was touched by every one that I read. So was today a normal day? I learned early this morning that someone was found dead about a quarter of a mile from my home. He was struck by a hit and run driver last night and I couldn’t help but wonder how I slept with an injured or already dead man so close with no knowledge. It has rained for days, flooding in many areas. What was this man doing out in the rain? Why did the driver who hit him not stop and check on him? Was he killed instantly or did he lay beside the road miserably wet and hurting? Is the driver suffering because s/he feels such remorse for leaving the person? My daughter who is bipolar quit all of her meds and has hit the depths of drug withdrawal and depression. I went to a twelve step program for people who have loved ones who are addicted. There were newcomer parents who cried through the meeting. But it was a normal day. At any place on this beautiful earth spinning in this glorious universe, someone has died, is dying or will die. Someone is struggling with addiction or losing a loved one, or suffering as many on this list have written. And yet we still love, still hope, still know that even though it has rained for so many days, there will be sun shining again or is shining in another place. There will be babies born, some to addicts, some to “normal” families, some into kingdoms. People will die tragically, peacefully, at a young age or old or in between. This happens every normal day. Winter ends, new life begins, the peach trees are budding out in a pink-purple haze for acres and acres. Babies, puppies, kittens, teach us to love on this normal day. We love, we grieve, we hope, we question, we learn, we overcome, we glimpse joy and beauty on this awful, wonderful, normal day.

I’ve reached the age where what used to have moisture is now like a desert. What used to be dry is now wet. What used to be up has gravitated down and what was once smooth can be used as a map but doesn’t lead to any locations known to Google Earth. Hair once thick is thinning, a belly once flat refuses to be sucked in. The bat wings under my arms are big enough to for me to soar from one tree to another if I could just get up the tree. And yet, I marvel at this remarkable body! My heart beats steadily and warms to extend love to babies and puppies, birds and butterflies, mushrooms and decaying trees which feed the earth. My feet can take me to places of wonder and I find that even walking is enjoyable and lifts my spirits and gets the blood pumping. I can still see the blue skies and early Spring ignoring the calendar. I’ve stocked up on seeds and bulbs to add to the beauty and have pulled weeds sitting on my little stool rather than squatting and bending as much, but the pulling of the weeds refreshes my soul as I pull out thoughts of fear or worry and just touch the earth so full of life. I can’t snap my fingers anymore because if arthritis, but I can pet my sweet dogs, one that herself is feeling the results of age, but she still joins me in my walks through the fields and woods. I can still cook and paint and type and text. I can still put a bit of paint on the old barn and hold hands with my hubby and my great grandchildren. My lap still works and those arms with their little wings can still embrace. Life is good and I’ve seen enough through the years to know there will be more hills to climb and valleys to traverse. There will be good times and bad and I’m thankful this old body has taken me to here. And I love it!

When I was younger, I’m in my early 70’s, I had aunts in their 70’s….80’s…90’s and one lived to be 103. I thought they were beautiful with their white hair, the twinkle in their eye, the lipstick they seemed to always have on (One told me when she was in her 90’s that the older a woman got, the less makeup she needed, but she never left the house without lipstick. She also said she told her age because she loved to hear people say that they couldn’t believe she was 90 and thought she was so much younger!). I realize beauty is reflected by the kindness, the attentiveness, the sense of humor, the caring, the acceptance, and simple joy shown through their loving selves.

I love your reflections on relating to the anger and opposition and disabilities of communication concerning those with opposing views. I have said to myself so many times, “The older I get, the less I know.” Sometimes I wish I’d never said it because it seems God is making sure I get this reality. Recent choices that loved ones have made which I think will cause them pain, has made me see that I’m giving advice that is not appreciated, unwanted and is really not my business. I don’t know their future, I don’t know all the ins and outs they have gone through, they have the right to make their own choices and I do not know what’s best in their situation. I’m not God and I was trying to interrupt His business. I’m fired! What I can do is what I know is the next right thing – for me and my relationship with God and with others.