I got sick last night and had to stay home from work. It was no fun, Sitting home alone not able to eat. Groggy, Falling in and out of sleep. But what I got out of it was a chance to sit for a while and reflect. Recharge. Look out the window at the windswept day and appreciate the forsythia for its flash of yellow heralding the change of season. I tried to get up and do some work, really I did. I am about to bring out a book, LATITUDES - A Story of Coming Home, and there are the details of finding an editor, book designer and publicist to tackle, but my pounding head made it all but impossible to do anything except just be. The pressing issues of the day just fell away. When the kids came home, I was there for a change, wandering around in a semi-daze. They burst in the door.
"Daddy, Daddy. i won the hula hoop contest."
"Manis broke his arm at lunch."
My son gave me a high five. Don't know why.
I felt like I could appreciate their budding personalities, bright cheeriness, their chatty news of the day's triumphs and tragedies. Then my wife walked in and she looked good, one of these working women you could get the hots for. It was one of those awakenings that you get. Despite your moans and groans, life has been kind.
Things makes sense when you least expect it.
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