Saturday, December 15, 2012
Yesterday, I noticed for the first time that gray clouds could float over gray, clouded skies.
Today the sky is blue and the grass wet with last night's rain. Opening my eyes, I felt the presumptuousness of the living.
Yesterday, I removed all those whose feeds on Facebook argue for gun-ownership or who picture their smiling children, shooting, in grassy fields. Within seconds, a relative said good-bye and is gone. Today, I will feel the presumptuousness of the living.
Yesterday, I got a message from the Friend Who Loves Jane Austen that he had Sophie's medication in hand, the copy of her birth certificate and a letter from me, authorizing its transport from the cold north. Today I can only ponder the country I live in, where I might have more easily ordered rounds of ammunition and received them quicker than the two-month supply of medication to ease the seizures of my epileptic daughter. These are the thoughts of the presumptuous living.
I will go now and buy the things that I'll need to carry on today, the flour and sugar to bake, the champagne to toast. I will take my boys to basketball tryouts and lacrosse games. I will greet the caregiver at the door this morning, the tree lights sparkling in the corner. Our gratitude will be of the presumptuous living.