With pictures, it's hard to tell a sunrise from a sunset. At this moment, I'm focusing on the time that passes between them.
Yesterday marked eleven years since Jimmy died. With this hopeful sunrise taken by my son at work, I did not want to choose the option of melancholy. Reflection on all the good that came from being with him was what I needed.
The day promised to be clear and warm. I got some sucky admin stuff done early (never mind shopping for cheaper car insurance, just pay the damn bill...for now). There was food in the fridge, new books from the library, and Thriftbooks, and all cats were present and accounted for. A huge personal grievance resolved itself.
Much to be grateful for.
I sat outside in the weakening sunshine and worked on the book for almost two hours and never once cared that the lawn needed attention.
After dark, Colin put the Saturday Night Live movie on TV for me. I haven't laughed (and cried) over a movie in many years. I imagine its appeal will be limited to the lucky ones who experienced the show
when it was "Live, from New York!" or younger cinephiles like my son who appreciated how well the movie was written and cast. How well it reflected the original show.
Watching (the first season return from hiatus) SNL together was one of the first sort-of date-type things my husband and I did together. We made it a sacrament.
The movie brought it all joyfully back and the slice of pizza was delicious communion.