And What Is So Rare As a Day in June?

And What Is So Rare As a Day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days…Yesterday was one of those rare, perfect days spoken of in the poem by James Russell Lowell. The weather was perfect and that set the tone for the day. I sat on the deck and began reading again, for the third or fourth time, The Red Lamp by Mary Roberts Rinehart, a glass of iced tea and some chocolate mints for fortification. Robins sang, Nemo hunted for a mole, and I was lost in what is probably one of the best-written mysteries I’ve ever read.

I took time out for grocery shopping and then fortified myself with an omelet lunch. After that? Back to the book and chocolates.

The day ended as well as it had begun as I joined my family at a local restaurant. This was to celebrate Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and Matt’s birthday which is today. It was a fun time.

Yes, today is a big day for Matt. I well remember where I was and how my life changed a few years ago (I won’t say how many, Matt). It’s a strange but happy thing that the birth of a baby can completely rearrange how one looks at the world. It’s suddenly a brighter, happier, more promising place and, truthfully, a bit more overwhelming. Little, every day things I once took for granted took on a new significance after I became a mom.

This morning is still, the only sound being the water fountain in the garden by the front porch. The day opens before me. Another day, another gift from God. I hope to use it well. As Mr. Lowell said, Then Heaven tries earth, if it be in tune, and over it softly her warm ear lays.

 

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