Memories

While I was sitting out the back having my morning serve of tea & toast, I was flipping through a magazine and looked at one of their short stories; it turned out to be about a brother and sister who didn't get on in younger years but came to love and respect each other as they grew up.  The story ends with the brother proudly being part of the wedding of his younger sister.

After I finished reading, I closed the magazine and sat there lost in my thoughts for a while.  What were the odds, I pondered.   Just this morning, Facebook had reminded me that it was seven years to the day I had been best man at the wedding of my younger sister.  I'll never forget how happy she looked that day.

We miss you, Julie.   God bless.

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Even last Sunday was busy this week.  I read from the Old Testament at the communion service this morning (and got the usual two or three comments from the parishioners - maybe I should start selling my autograph for the missionary fund).

Then picked up three bags of feed from the Animal Tucker Box store.  Home for a light lunch and closed my eyes for an hour.  Went next door to a birthday party for my neighbor's big-seven-oh celebration.  The family dogs didn't seem upset by all the visitors, though one of them brought her ball in and kept dropping it at stranger's feet and looking hopefully at them. 

*

Here's a poem I wrote back in 2014:

A MONDAY POEM

Somehow 

at this time of life 

the day seems to go out of focus

so easily. 

Too much coffee

or maybe too little. 

You feel as though 

in some way

you haven't quite connected

with reality. 

It's all -- somewhere a little removed. 

You run on tramlines of routine,

vaguely baffled by your own steadfastness.

The things you used to love

no longer give you the same pleasure. 

The things which were a chore 

are so familiar 

they no longer

even bore you.

Voices on the radio 

talk of interesting things

and play new pieces of music 

but it seems to come 

from a space station 

in orbit 

around some other planet. 

The calendars and diaries

tell of an old year ending

and a new year beginning, 

but there are none 

of the markers you were used to. 

Where are the cards 

from those uncles and aunts, 

so punctual every year?

All gone, every one of them.

And you realize that now

you are the older generation.