This morning dawned so beautiful that I feel like waxing eloquent. If I fail, I’d appreciate you not mentioning it. Thanks.
What I experienced on the morning of Friday June 2, 2006. By Kelly Klepfer
Today started like most days. I flopped one leg over the bed and slapped the snooze on my alarm. Again, just a few short moments later, it squawked. The other leg hit the floor, the hand automatically smacked the alarm, and I was committed.
I slept as I scrubbed – kind of like hitting the snooze, but wetter. Then I Frankenstein-walked into my eldest daughter’s room to wake her for our standing coffee date. Boy, did I need some coffee! She began her sleepwalking ritual (we’re related that way) and I made the mistake of sitting down to put on my shoes. A few moans and groans later, we were off to the magic elixir. Yay! Frozen mocha elixir.
A bright blue sky greeted me as I opened the front door. And songs of assorted birds soothed my eardrums. A robin, perchance, sang with great gusto. I rolled down the windows of my van and let my hair whip into a mess. Sweet aromas, freshly cut grass, a bush in bloom, tickled my nose.
Coffee, six different varieties blending into nose candy, awakened us as we yanked the door. The line moved quickly.
We bowed to pray and my daughter prayed that I would be richly blessed. I was.
The sense enrichment didn’t end there. Ice water suddenly flooded the table which we sopped up with at least a hundred napkins while we giggled. The coffee hit our blood stream. We parted to begin our days.
I take X-Rays as part of my day job. One patient crabbed because she had to take some of her clothing off. I had told her that she didn’t have to take much off.
“Not much – that’s half of what I have on.”
“But I’m trying to keep the glass half full.” I told her. She laughed.
And as I finish the morning out, the sun still shines brightly, and we now have a clean refrigerator.
Two doctors are gone today, and the old fridge with the tiny freezer coated with ice begged to be taken care of -- the door wouldn’t close all the way.
Pumped full of caffeine and the promise of a quiet day, I flung open the door, turned it to defrost and let it melt.
Everyone has stopped to take a turn and removing ice chunks. A doctor even got his hammer from his office and found a screwdriver to chisel with – not only scary, but also a great picture of private practice. I suggested I query a medical journal and see if they wanted a story of the real life of private practice doctors.
And to top it off, I had procrastinated a phone call, and finally took care of it today, and it turns out that the situation was solved.
Ahhh. The little joys of life.
Hope you all have an excellent – richly blessed – glass half full – laughter peppered – situation resolved -- smell good weekend.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.