Lest I Forget These Ordinary Days

Last night, I took a moment to reflect. I took a moment to remember. I took a moment to record.

Twenty years from now, I will not remember what happened today. I will not remember what my house looked like. I will not remember what did not get done.

I will wonder what were my days like? How did I feel at the end of an ordinary day? Was I happy? Was I content? Did I want for anything? Did I cherish?

Well, to my almost fifty year old self. This is what I observed last night.

My feet ache from being inside my tennis shoes all day. My back burns from the exhaustion of hoisting a baby in and out of a car seat all day. I now know why I only run a few errands at a time – not that I ever questioned it in the first place.

The rain is falling outside my window. The water beyond is choppy and gray. Our resident heron is nowhere to be found. I miss her elegance. However, a bird flutters from tree to tree oblivious to the wetness without.

The dishwasher hums as it washes our day’s dishes – my own personal maid working while I rest. Our water glasses sit in the sink waiting to be rinsed.

Across the room, my husband wishes his Dad a Happy Birthday. The phone is an amazing piece of technology. I am amazed my love is not pacing the floor. Ironically, he fidgets as he discusses his hopes and dreams for the future.

Twitter flashes with the newest status update. I missed it. I don’t care.

The monitor that connects me to the breathing of my small child is like a white noise drowning out the cares of undone tasks. This day is almost done.

My water bottle has replaced my coffee mug on my desk. Pens are strewn across my lists – weekly, daily, and blog. There are receipts that need filed piling up in my inbox that sits on the corner of my desk.

Samuel’s green ball and xylophone mallet is right where he left it. His new game he created today – hit the ball all over the room. He was so proud of himself.

My books line my windowsill – six across and over seven high. I call them my research books. I think they are just some of my favorites that I refer to often, or at the very least the ones I wish to read soon. I can’t bear to put them on the shelf. I may forget them.

I hear the geese honking their greetings and directions off in the distant. They are somewhere around the point. They’ll swoop in and nest for the night just around the bend. They are silent.

A plane flies overhead. I wonder where it has been – maybe some exotic place.

My reflection stares back at me in the window indicating the sun is gone for the day. I can no longer see the river. I hear the rain splattering against the front porch. I hear the sounds of the ocean coming from the monitor indicating silence from within the walls of our nursery. The dishes are clean. Lists still sit screaming of undone tasks. The husband is barricaded in the bedroom tackling the needed task of packing away summer clothes. A glass of wine has replaced my water.

It is time to make memories with the man of my prayers. Scrabble it is tonight. It’s been too long. I must remove the scrabble letters from my dining room table reminding us of grace.

What a perfect moment. What a perfect day. What undeserved mercies.

This is an ordinary moment, but it is these ordinary moments that create extraordinary days. Lest I forget, this is the ending of an ordinary day.

What about you? Do you ever take a moment to reflect and truly take in your surroundings? Take a minute and record this moment in your journal. You might find it interesting someday.

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This post is linked to Women Living Well Wednesdays and Thought Provoking Thursdays.