So Much Warmth

Socks, socks, socks! 

We had our close friends, Margo and Gerald, over for supper last night. Gerald stepped into our house and exclaimed "It smells great in here!"

It did smell great. Not because we were preparing an elaborate gourmet meal (we weren't), but because the aromas of the day, ranging from apple pie to caramelized onions, had filled the hall and rooms.

Not only did the house smell great, but it was warm. We are just coming out of the polar vortex that hit this part of the country. Warmth is a big deal.

The whole evening was full of warmth: good, simple food, lots of conversation, dear friends, a cherished longtime friendship. After we said our goodbyes and stood at the door waving as Gerald and Margo drove away, I turned to Warren and said "This was a wonderful evening. I really needed that."

It has been a rough end to January and start to February. The brutal Mayo trip was followed by Warren being away at a conference for four days, immediately followed by my getting spectacularly ill for 36 hours, and topped off with the vicious polar vortex, followed by about five inches of snow. (The silver lining to the weather was that the schools all shut down for three consecutive days, so while I have a number of attendance mediations to reschedule, I did not miss a single one because of being ill. The other silver lining is that my sickness coincided with the vortex days, so I did not have to venture into that freezer.) There were other family matters, other health matters, other, just, things going on, all of which took time and energy and love and concentration, that piled on top of the week as well.

But there was so much warmth, despite the temperatures, despite being violently ill, despite the other things.

There was Maura next door, slipping a container of baked goods in our front door to cheer the invalid. There was Kim of Out My Window offering to take in the too large skirt I mentioned in my last post. There was longtime friend Ellen of Within My Means, who, in response to my blog about my antique socks, sent me a box full of new ones. (How I laughed when I opened that box!) There was an email from a colleague thanking me for assisting in a complicated court matter, so heartfelt that I could not share with Warren without my voice breaking and tears running down my face.

So much warmth.

Without my trying to, I seem to be spending my days more deliberately, more intentionally. I continue to slip out to the back deck to greet the day (well, not the day I was so sick, but I did the following day when I was on the mend and it was still a stunning -10 or so outside). I find myself focusing more on what I am feeling, writing, eating, hearing (right now, marimba music from Warren's study down the hall as he listens to a performer on YouTube), reading, saying, than I used to, than even just a few months ago. I sense it is my growing awareness of time running out that compels me to take a deep breath and savor the moment. Ram Dass (Ram Dass? Hey, I just finished reading Walking Each Other Home, okay?) and others remind me to stay in the moment, because the moment is all I have. I want, no, need to remain open to the coming conclusion of my life so that I can move into and through that final landscape with a heart full of love.

And so much warmth.