The day just has to unfold on its own terms. It's not a bad day in and of itself. In my own world, things are peaceful. We are inside and safe from the thunderstorms shattering the warmth into raindrops and tossing them against the windows like so many pebbles. Orion naps in the arm chair, dreaming of dry, sunny times to come. I have the computer on my lap, and have made the rounds of my favorite websites for the day.
Still, the flash and rattle of bombs dropping into the lives of loved ones reaches me in my cozy vantage point. Two cancer diagnoses for people connected with friends; another round of eldercare follies for a relative; a hospitalized grandchild.
Prayers have been said for all concerned. We, too, have had our share of challenges. Family issues; the epidemic uncertainty around the economy; questions about how stable The Spouse's company is. Yet, we have so much and our shared life flows serenely like a river negotiating a boulder filled bed. The three of us are healthy. We'll have a lentil concoction or a variation on the leftover chicken theme for dinner. We have music, books, and plans for the future.
Complaining is the easy way. Gratitude takes patience and vision.