I spent a wonderful afternoon yesterday with my two grandchildren and their families. Around 3:00, I drove up to Brooklyn, CT, to Jaimie, Jess, and little Noah’s house in the forest, and then we drove together up to Millbury to visit with Luke, Krissy, Kaylee, and baby Josh (who’s almost 3 months old). It was a stormy day, the rain slanting down on the roads as we drove along, but we brightened things up in the car with conversation. Noah and I sat comfortably in the back, chatting and enjoying each other’s company. We had a lovely time at Luke and Krissy’s, partly because Josh was in an especially fine mood. He cooed and smiled and waved his arms and generally took pleasure in being alive. For over two hours he was the contented prince of the household. As we ate dinner, he sat happily in his new bouncy chair, as though presiding in his innocent way over the festivities. I was thrilled to be there. As I often do when I’m at family gatherings, I said many silent prayers of gratitude for the gifts I’ve received in my life, a great family being the finest gift of all. As I watched my sons and their families enjoying life so much, I almost couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to be a part of it all. It seemed too good to be true.
* * * * *
A CELEBRATION
One morning,
he thought he’d celebrate
by buying a bagel and coffee
at the shop on the corner.
It couldn’t have been easier.
The universe was celebrating
(a car cruising along Spring Street,
someone coughing in a small house,
a skirt of sunlight showing off
in the eastern sky),
so why shouldn’t he?
The butter on the bagel
was the best ever,
and the coffee couldn’t wait
to get to his lips.
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