Today was a good day. I felt pretty good most of the day, and my wife was off work, so we were able to spend it at home, together. The weather was beautiful – sunny, a little cool for July, and dry. We were both up by 6:30, and spent the first couple of hours waking up and reading, coffee and toast for breakfast. I did my daily Parkinson’s disease stretches, and by 9:30 I was moving pretty good, and I went outside.
First, I took the empty gallon iced tea jugs I’ve been saving out to my workshop, and funneled the old used motor oil I had lying around in various containers into them. Two or three more empties and I’ll have all of my old oil accounted for, and I’ll take it in to the recycling center the village has established.
Then I put the new tire I’d bought at the True Value store a couple of days ago on the wheelbarrow, replacing the old one that wouldn’t hold air anymore. Then I weeded my vegetable garden while my wife weeded her flower garden. Tomatoes are starting to come in. That’s exciting.
Then I burned some brush, some yard waste we’d accumulated over the summer. It was the second of four brush piles we’ve burned; the other two are probably still a little bit too green to burn just yet.
I emptied the garbage can in my workshop into the main can we take to the curb on Tuesdays. It was pretty full, it was past time I remembered to empty it, so that’s taken care of.
For dinner, I grilled out, bratwursts, a true Wisconsin delicacy. We ate, then my wife worked some more in her flower garden, while I read. We came in, she gave me a much needed haircut, and we played our nightly game of Scrabble (she won – AGAIN). Now it’s 9:30 and getting dark, and I’ll try to get an hour or two of writing in before I go to bed.
Tomorrow, Deb goes back to work, I tutor for the literary council in the afternoon, and I have a meeting with my writer’s group tomorrow night.
This may all sound pretty routine and boring, but for me, it’s as good as it gets. I love days like this, when I feel good enough to get some jobs, admittedly small jobs, done and crossed off of the list. I know it’s a fraction of what I used to do every day, but I also know I can’t do most of those things anymore. And to be honest, on some of the days that aren’t this good, the bad days, I sit alone most of the day and brood about that.
It’s more than coincidence that my wife was home and that I had a good day today. There’s a definite correlation. It’s not that we did anything special together or even left the yard. It’s the fact that she is here, near to me, that matters. It’s the comfort I take in her presence, looking out the window and seeing her in her flower garden, and showing her the green tomatoes coming in in my garden that means so much to me. After 33 years together, we’ve become more than best friends, more than partners, more even than soul mates. We’re tied to each other, inextricably linked. We are companions.
While the number of good days left slowly counts down and diminishes, the appreciation and enjoyment of each one increases. Days like today are truly remarkable and meant to be treasured. The sun on my face in my backyard, the sound of the breeze through the trees, the feel of a wrench in my hand while tightening the bolts on my wheelbarrow, and the image of my wife in the midday golden, green, and red of her flower garden, are all more perfect than anyone can ask for.