kaleidoscope

That's what this past week has been like. The different parts of my life swirling in contrast, images blurring into each other.

The warm, rich walls of Gilda's Club and the stark white hospital room. Gentle strains of classical music and sharp beeps echoing off tile. Hugs and hellos from old friends, cell phone calls that twist the gut.The shallow joy of good sales, the deep sadness of a Mother's confusion and fear.

Today, all is calm, appropriate to the season, but I don't know how long it can last. Sunday, I leave on my mission to help my son sort out the mess he was left and, in the process, leave my brother a mess I should be sharing.

One of the quotes I use on my cards and magnets is "normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are." I think just that line is a wonderful reminder to cherish the moment, but the rest of the quote is so very moving:

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. ~Mary Jean Iron

I have had several occasions lately to remember the full sentiment and I have lived long enough now to have experienced the longing for normal days.

Today is a close to a normal day. Mom is home and complaining. I have a show Saturday and I am scrambling to make enough things. I'll be at work in an hour, then I'll do laundry...

So the swirling stops for a moment, the colors settle, the images take their rightful places in my world and stay there.

And I am aware of and grateful for this normal day.