I Hope I Remember Today

This afternoon on my hike a flock of geese flew low over the trail.

The sun was low enough in the sky to illuminate their bellies.

There was something so astonishing about their wildness and the light on the underside of their wings.

….

I think depression has taught me the most about how to see.

Depression takes the whole world away. And when you get it back, the beauty can take your breath away.

Pain and gratitude seem to be such close friends.

I’ve enjoyed walking in the 11 months since the knee surgery more than I ever did in all the decades before it. Suddenly I realized walking wasn’t something I would always be able to do.

And I never really appreciated just sitting in a chair until I spent a year with back pain. Now, just sitting, seems absolutely wonderful.

….

I know. Eventually there will be things that don’t repair.

Whenever that moment comes, I hope I remember today.

The joy of my mid-life body trudging through the snow.

The light on their wings.

The moment where I took none of it for granted.