A little Michael Buble, or even a bit of old school Sinatra. Some fun Jack Johnson.
And a quick glance through recent photos….
And I catch my breath. Maybe for the first time since that awful news in November.
But my arms are full. I love that little one from a different angle too. My life is not perfect, by anyone’s standards. But I am loved.
And I take the dare to love again.
I live again.
And we fix and prepare days and memories and yummy summer food.
And I kiss and I am kissed.
I feel my lungs take in deep, full breaths of the best air we can ever breathe:
joy in blessings. Big and small.
I think it’s called hope for a future.
Thanks for the present.
Acceptance of the past.
Giving it all to Him.
This is joy.