Every Day is an Epiphany

Yesterday afternoon was a typical late spring afternoon.  I cut up the last of the vegetables and sautéed them until they were translucent. I added them to my butternut squash soup, the basis for my “Healthy” chicken and dumplings. As I worked in the kitchen, my youngest daughter bounced my grandson up and down, all the while recounting her day at school.  In the background the magic violin of Damien Escobar filled the air, along with baby squeals, and an occasional dog bark. As the food cooked on the stove, I watered my herbs, heated a simmering pot of mint and dried lavender, and supplied both the dogs and the teen with water and snack. Finally, I scooped up the baby and inhaled his scent of bananas, milk, and pure sweetness. The first two ingredients came tumbling out of his mouth on to our  shirts. I laughed as I headed to the bedroom to change both of us.

Later as I walked the dogs around my favorite deserted farmhouse, I collapsed on a hill with them and watched the sunset.  In that moment, I was completely tired and completely happy. Feeling tired because I have loved people and pets all day, is something I aim for every day. The occasional ache when I hit the bed at night, is a reminder that I am very lucky to have people to love and moments that will indeed make me ache. Of course it is easier to give in to the fatigue and skip cooking the meal in the afternoon or push away the embrace at night. But  I would rather earn the deep fatigue that comes from living a wonderfully exhausting life