Today was a good day.
Today was also an emotionally hard day.
It was filled with good stuff. Coffee with a new friend. The farmer's market for a loaf of good bread. Football equipment hand-out for my 13 year old son. A little house cleaning. A bit of editing. A long bike ride. Saturday service at church. Brennans for some goodies with Donna and Ben. A beautiful evening walk with my iPod and my dog. A dinner with the good bread from the market.
And yet there was this cloak of sorrow that prohibited it from being all it could be. It could have been a completely satisfying and perfect day.
Only it wasn't.
It was almost perfect.
People have told me there would be days like this. Days where you try to run from the pain and sadness, but you can't seem to outrun it. You try and keep real busy thinking life is all normal.
And it's not.
A thought comes along and there I go, wailing like an Iraqi.
A song plays on the iPod and there I go again.
Today the sight of a tree made me cry (for crying out loud). What's with that?
It's the thought that I'll never be able to camp with my brother again. That the day will come soon when he's forced to leave his house for hospice. That I'll never be able to road trip with him again. That I'll never be able to help him with a home project again, or vice versa.
How can life be so stinking rich one moment, and yet so incredibly sad the next?
I think it's God's way of mixing me an emotional smoothie.
Thanks for that...I think.
Church was especially hard this evening. The music always gets me and tonight was no exception. The take away from it was that it is in our desperate moments, our desperate reaches, that God shapes us. The pastor said that it is often times immediately after these times of trial that God does something wonderful and it helps us understand His timing.
But as I said, the day was full of much joy and goodness too.
The warming words of a friend who lost a brother to cancer struck a chord and helped me work through some of it.
The thought of the excitement and apprehension of Ben as he got his football equipment. I can remember well getting my equipment from Mr. Wescott out of his big scary closet of football stuff. It made me feel much bigger and tougher than I really was. I loved every minute of those days.
The freedom of riding my bike.
And so I'm left to reconcile what kind of day it ultimately was.
I've come to the conclusion that it was exactly the kind of day I needed.