My cat is sitting on my feet as I type from my cozy bed, where I’ve retreated because it’s cold as heck, today. Not even 15 degrees at nearly 11 am, and the sun is shining. In self defense, I wrapped up in sweater and quilts.
Every December, I go through the accomplishments and failures and recognitions of the year. As I do so now, I see that it’s been a challenging year in many ways, marked by the loss of a friend, a dearly loved relative, and….at last, and as we knew was coming, my beloved Jack on the last day of summer. His death was as good as one could ask for a 14 year old dog–he had a stroke at lunchtime and it was plain I had to let him go. I was able to hold him and tell him I loved him as he departed, which is the great blessing we have with pets. It was less kind for my uncle, but he, too, traveled with grace and peace to the other side. It was sudden, which means it takes a bit to encompass, but I know he wouldn’t want me wallowing, so I won’t. In time, I hope I can write something that does his life and influence in my life the justice it deserves. In the meantime, I’ll focus on joy.
The joy is in writing, and in teaching; the joy is in granddaughters, and the joy is in the anticipation of a big trip coming up in the spring. The joy is in you, in painting and in the art in the world. Joy is in the first snowfall and the last leaf falling on my head. The joy is in this photo of Jo and I at Uluru seven or eight years ago.
The joy is in many things, if only we look.
Where’s the joy in your life?