Even in the bright sun of the mid-morning, the air embraces a chill that defies the traditional definition that is spring. Someone failed to notify the passing arctic breeze that the calendar has now passed the date denoting the arrival of the spring season. Oddly, before the date turned on the calendar we now keep other weather patterns were confounding winter with the heat of summer. As if rigidity, tremor, stiffness and a few other annoyances were not enough for this unwilling Parkinson’s host, now the tides of uneven temperatures seem to engulf the otherwise routine passing of the seasons. As we listened carefully yesterday to the joy filled life celebration of one who at 92 had passed on from what we know as this life, we were struck by the frequent references to humor, using one’s gifts, and giving unceremoniously to others. That message in celebration extended into today as I pause in reflections of gratitude and joy at the abundance that surrounds us, even in the midst of change. Almost in an instant the propensity toward a mental cloud opens rather to the breaking of a new dawn filled with the light and warmth that is found at the rise of thankfulness. Again, the message of gratitude and thankfulness rains down warmth that enriches the soil that provides sustenance and reinforces the understanding that it is what dwells within, rather than what resides without that renders depth and meaning to this life.
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