Today was a great day. I sat under a tree on a blankie next to a sleeping Spencer and just watched bluejays and cardinals and orioles zip past me and bounce around in the trees. I watched a little kid get pulled around by a giant dog and a group of little kids gather round their dad as he gutted a giant fish. I read some scriptures. I sat and reminded myself of beautiful moments when I've come to know that God lives. I snuggled next to Spencer and listened to John Rutter. I had a moment where I felt overwhelming sadness at loves lost. And I felt overwhelming gratitude for the love that I have. I sat and thought about children I don't have, and tried to imagine children I would have. I wondered if they would be blond or red-headed. It seems like almost everyone in my family, except for Jack and I, were born with blond hair. But I couldn't imagine anything but dark hair because I spent Sunday holding a dark-haired little baby girl. Spencer bought me a peace lily. I watched him skip rocks. I took a luxurious nap. I got up at 5 am. And I'm going to go and buy a piano tomorrow after our early morning show.
Today was a great day. Filled with little generosities and specific moments that are too generic to articulate, but all the same--I felt the gamut of emotions from loneliness to overwhelming love.
I loved being in this day. And even as I was in it, I imagined that one day I would look back at today and be happy that I had lived in this day.