It has been a good, relatively productive day. I began the day with one of my typical Sunday morning rituals: going to the grocery store. As odd as it sounds, going grocery shopping is often a mildly emotional experience. Over the years as I’ve analyzed this phenomenon I recognize that the sadness is connected to memories of my mother. I frequently went shopping with her, helping haul around the second cart that we invariably needed to provide enough groceries for our family. It was one of a number of activities I associate with time spent with my mother, and though she has been gone 18 years I still feel the twinge of sadness during my biweekly trip to the supermarket.
Years later I would take my daughter shopping with me, and while we almost never needed a second cart, we managed to pile up the one, barricading canned goods and other items behind stacked up boxes of cereal. The trips with Michal were equal parts sweetness and annoyance as we engaged in frequent negotiations over which of her favorite sweet, snacky foods we would add to the cart. Even during our most recent shopping trip my was still asking how many “chits” or markers she had to spend to ensure she got her favorite foods. These days my grocery shopping trips continue to have a certain melancholic feel to them as now I am shopping by myself for myself and my cart is rarely more than a third full. In spite of the tinge of blues, I nonetheless am grateful that I have the wherewithal to purchase groceries.
I’ve been through some days when I could only afford a few items in my cart and at times depended on food from the pantry where I volunteered for over a year. I have never been close to starving, but I have on occasion experienced hunger. I do not take for granted the availability of food or the ability to pay for it. It is why I continue to support food banks and pantries everywhere I have lived.
The rest of my day saw me engaging in activities that reflect the steady march through autumn toward winter: I purchased Halloween candy, raked up my first batch of leaves, brought my sweaters and cold weather clothes down from the attic and moved my spring and summer clothes out. I’ve refilled the bird feeder twice since I put it up two weeks ago, some of the migratory birds loading up on energy to begin their flight south for the winter. The nip in the air the past few days serves as another reminder. I am grateful to have spent the early part of the day accomplishing a number of things I needed to in order to prepare for the coming week. Tonight I am finishing this blog a couple of hours earlier than usual, allowing me some time to read and wind down before I take my rest.
I want to close, as I sometimes do, with the night time prayer that I’ve quoted many times before in the two-plus years I’ve been writing this blog. It exemplifies the kind of day I’ve had today: one in which I accomplished some things and, as often happens, left some things unfinished. There is always something else that could be done, and yet I can be satisfied with what I did today. All is well.
God,it is night.The night is for stillness.
Let us be still in the presence of God.
It is night after a long day.
What has been done has been done;
what has not been done has not been done;
let it be.
The night is quiet.
Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,
all dear to us,and all who have no peace.
The night heralds the dawn.
Let us look expectantly to a new day,
new joys,new possibilities.
In your name we pray. Amen.
New Zealand Prayer Book (1989)
As I go into another week, I want to do so expectantly, looking forward to new possibilities, new joys. And of course, new things to be grateful for.
