Simple Joys of Life

Discussion: It is an interesting piece, but I admit that I struggle with it - from mimicking it to fully understanding. It makes me wonder if the memory of the items and situations is the beauty and not the actual things. Can we find beauty in everything/anything? The repetition with the field mouse seems out of place as not used elsewhere in the piece, but it spans life with the first line covering death and the third showing birth. The gentle rain on a hot Summer day. Walking slowly, enjoying the raindrops, a reprieve from the heat. Birds dancing on the sidewalk in the aftermath, making their own bird bath. A warm mug of tea, honey and lemon infused. Bringing it to my lips while preparing a quick breakfast - who would think I would actually like avocado toast? Watching the birds from the kitchen window as they circle and dance on the feeder, mentally identifying as many as I can. The smile and giggles of my grandson as he wakes me early in the morning. I pull him into the bed as we talk in a whisper about whatever pops in his head, holding him close, cherishing the moment. He cracks the eggs as I warm the griddle for Sunday pancakes - our ritual. Feeling the dirt between my fingers, placing the flowers in the ground, patting the ground before spreading mulch. The gentle breeze as I water the fresh flower bed. Sitting on the porch, watching the sun set as another summer is upon us. A good song, transported to another time and place - dancing with mamaw; singing with my sister; jamming with my brother; showing her I am worthy, so many journeys. I hum one of my favorites while working. The surprise of water flowing down my back as another water "fight" begins with the little one. Balloons filled and thrown, water guns quickly emptied until tired of their temporary usefulness and grabbing the hose to cover everything in water. Gathering with friends and family, sharing stories. The laughter is cathartic as we reminisce on both good and bad times, reflecting on those no longer with us. Sitting at the kitchen table as mamaw fixes chili. I sit on my special stool as she tells stories with the occasional song. She is in her element, loves cooking and family. She places grilled cheese in front of me - the crust cut off, and kisses my forehead. The engine springing to life with the turn of the key, wiping the steering wheel with the rag. Slamming the door, leaning against the door, swallowing the water and wiping my forehead - admiring my handiwork, another job done. Arriving at the ballpark, watching the ground crew prepare the field. Players playing catch in the outfield, the sun slowly setting. Anticipating the first pitch when there still are no winners or losers, the sound of the ball hitting the leather. The sound of water lapping against the boat, reaching for an old stump on the bank to secure the rope - secure the boat. The nearby trees providing comfort with their shade. We settle back and pull out the fishing poles, Dad points at a good location for my line. I laugh as he shares stories, loving this time together. Why couldn't it always be this way? Sharing knowledge, teaching others, urging them to avoid your mistakes and be better, get farther. Teaching skills leading to self-sufficiency. Admiring the results and their successes. The smell of a baby, wrapped tightly in their blanket, holding and listening to their coos and ahs - wondering if he will call me Pop Pop like his brother. Looking forward to watching him grow. The few weeks leading to Christmas. Everyone is cordial and there is so much to do. Admiring the decorations, sitting, listening to holiday tunes the day before it is all over. Her smile after a long day, chasing the worries of work from my head. An embrace and laughter, sitting, sharing, adding to our memories and the reminder of what is most important.