Contemplation

Yesterday I thought I was starting to feel better. Then I woke up today. Ugh.

I don't remember what time I got out of bed; probably around 7:30 or so. I poured a bowl of cereal, ate about 1.5 bites, and went back to bed. The next thing I knew, it was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon.

I spent the day mostly in my bathrobe, wandering between my bedroom and the kitchen. I tried to eat every now and then, but my appetite had gone. Anyway, these days everything tastes—and feels—like cardboard in my mouth. My stomach hurts. I'm tired. And, on top of everything else, my knees have started bothering me.

You can imagine my pleasure when I flipped through today's mail and found yet another offer for a chance to win a free pre-paid cremation. Good Lord.

There was one bright spot in the afternoon, when I went outside with a cup of tea and sat on a set of steps with a view to the pool. The late afternoon light had turned mostly to shade, except along the tops of the tallest trees. The air was cool without being cold. A mallard duck stood by the pool, preening.

I didn't have any big epiphany in that moment. I just breathed it in, enjoyed the smell, taste, and feel of it. The glow of it still lingers, even as I'm getting ready for bed.

I guess I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say, "Be thankful for the little things."