Life is Beautiful
I had a difficult week.
It started with a few rides on a small airplane. I am not fearful of flying, but I hate the entire experience. The airports, the jammed seats, the delays, and most importantly giving up control.
We were circling in New York, unable to land because there was too much traffic and we kept buzzing around the big island. I was a little nauseous because it was like we were riding on a lawn mower, but I glanced out the window. The guy beside me was leaning across my seat, trying to get a photo.
And I thought about the plane going down...who doesn't think about that?...and I thought about how the news stories would just count the heads of those who perished.
And then I glanced out the window at New York.
"It's beautiful," the guy whispered.
And life is like that...
...when we feel most uncomfortable. When we are beyond aggravated. Just when the scent of some stranger's breath is about to turn me into a screaming idiot, there is beauty.
The busy week continued.
Construction season is in full swing and the phone rings a lot. Up before the sun, battling to finish with enough time to perhaps catch a few innings, go back to work.
A whole bunch of Americans in the same boat.
How's the leg? You're limping.
I'm good.
One aggravation after another...sooner or later the work gets done.
"Shoot with us," Sam pleaded as he tossed me the basketball.
There were three of them.
Certainly they needed a fourth.
I took a few practice shots and declared myself ready to go.
Out in the driveway. One son on my team and the other one guarding me and talking smack.
Life is beautiful.
I didn't run much, but I hit a few shots and grabbed a few rebounds. I even dribbled between my legs as I called the last shot.
"This game is over," I said.
Jake went to the spot where he knew I was going (I never learned to go left). I beat him there and put the shot up.
"Good game," I chided as the ball was in the air.
"One more!" They all called out.
Couldn't do it.
My beautiful wife was ready to go to dinner.
We met my great Mom, my brother, sister, nephew and brother-in-law.
We were all talking about being busy.
I contemplated those who weren't there. I missed every single one of them...death...out of town...just not there.
"Dad's sauce was never actually topped," we all agreed.
"No kidding," Kathy said. "I remember the first time I had his marinara. I wanted to drink it! I figured out why you all went there every Sunday."
Beautiful words.
And we ate.
Pasta, peppers, mussels, bread, meatballs.
"What did you eat tonight that you can't make better at home?" Jim asked.
"Nothing," I answered.
We are all better cooks than the chefs at the restaurants.
Mom and Dad taught us that.
Life is beautiful.
Kathy and I were both limping to the car. She had started her day at 3:30 in the morning.
"What a pair we turned out to be," she said. "Look at us, stumbling around."
Yeah.
Life.
It hammers you, for sure...
...but it gives back too.
You just gotta' weather the storms...
...and hold onto the beauty that's all around.
It started with a few rides on a small airplane. I am not fearful of flying, but I hate the entire experience. The airports, the jammed seats, the delays, and most importantly giving up control.
We were circling in New York, unable to land because there was too much traffic and we kept buzzing around the big island. I was a little nauseous because it was like we were riding on a lawn mower, but I glanced out the window. The guy beside me was leaning across my seat, trying to get a photo.
And I thought about the plane going down...who doesn't think about that?...and I thought about how the news stories would just count the heads of those who perished.
And then I glanced out the window at New York.
"It's beautiful," the guy whispered.
And life is like that...
...when we feel most uncomfortable. When we are beyond aggravated. Just when the scent of some stranger's breath is about to turn me into a screaming idiot, there is beauty.
The busy week continued.
Construction season is in full swing and the phone rings a lot. Up before the sun, battling to finish with enough time to perhaps catch a few innings, go back to work.
A whole bunch of Americans in the same boat.
How's the leg? You're limping.
I'm good.
One aggravation after another...sooner or later the work gets done.
"Shoot with us," Sam pleaded as he tossed me the basketball.
There were three of them.
Certainly they needed a fourth.
I took a few practice shots and declared myself ready to go.
Out in the driveway. One son on my team and the other one guarding me and talking smack.
Life is beautiful.
I didn't run much, but I hit a few shots and grabbed a few rebounds. I even dribbled between my legs as I called the last shot.
"This game is over," I said.
Jake went to the spot where he knew I was going (I never learned to go left). I beat him there and put the shot up.
"Good game," I chided as the ball was in the air.
"One more!" They all called out.
Couldn't do it.
My beautiful wife was ready to go to dinner.
We met my great Mom, my brother, sister, nephew and brother-in-law.
We were all talking about being busy.
I contemplated those who weren't there. I missed every single one of them...death...out of town...just not there.
"Dad's sauce was never actually topped," we all agreed.
"No kidding," Kathy said. "I remember the first time I had his marinara. I wanted to drink it! I figured out why you all went there every Sunday."
Beautiful words.
And we ate.
Pasta, peppers, mussels, bread, meatballs.
"What did you eat tonight that you can't make better at home?" Jim asked.
"Nothing," I answered.
We are all better cooks than the chefs at the restaurants.
Mom and Dad taught us that.
Life is beautiful.
Kathy and I were both limping to the car. She had started her day at 3:30 in the morning.
"What a pair we turned out to be," she said. "Look at us, stumbling around."
Yeah.
Life.
It hammers you, for sure...
...but it gives back too.
You just gotta' weather the storms...
...and hold onto the beauty that's all around.
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