I have been thinking lately that life can be very pleasant, if you count up all the lovely moments. So, here are three of my recent ones that have stayed with me, cheering me up and along.
- A couple of Sundays ago I was driving to church and I passed a man mowing his lawn, for what I’m sure was the last time this year. His little white dog sat in the bay window of his house watching him, as your dog does. I saw the man pause in his mowing and smile up at his dog, as we do. It was so tender. I’m sure, given another minute, he would have been waving to his dog. Instead, he heard my car, turned toward me and we both laughed, because it’s so great to have a dog who lovingly watches you mow your lawn.
- I was at the cottage with my good friend who is also a writer. Years ago, as I applied mascara, I had the thought that we should work together — which we did and have several times. This has been good for us and good for our projects. Our latest project is a writing book, which we are writing together. As we reviewed what we had done so far, we realized it was horrible. I need to say, it is horrible no longer. We fixed it. But before we fixed it, we laughed so hard, as my kids used to say. My stomach hurt from laughing. I had to get up and move around and bend over, laughing. It was such a relief.
- At my Grammy’s funeral this summer, we drove slowly behind the hearse to the graveyard, at Meductic Baptist Church where my Grammy was to be buried, beside Harry her husband, my Grampy. As we made our way out of Woodstock, along the St. John River, which a NB tourism site describes in a very nice way as “languid and lovely,” cars and trucks pulled over to the side of the road, in respect of the funeral procession. This does not always happen these days, and not every driver did it that day either. But, every time a car did pull over, my dad, my Grammy’s eldest son, would say something like, “Well, would you look at that,” and he would wave to each and every driver, and say thank you to them, even though they couldn’t hear him.