A good day
05/03/20 04:11
As I was driving him after a very long day yesterday a thought came to me. The best part of my day yesterday was going for a walk with my wife and holding her hand. It reminded me of the days in the fall when she was in the ICU and I sat at her bedside and held her hand. What I thought then came to me yesterday. We’re in this together for whatever comes. It was a kind of silent renewal of our wedding vows. And it felt right at the time. It felt even better yesterday. Since she has been feeling up to it we try to walk together every day. We also go on separate walks, but walking together is a priority in our lives. Many days, like yesterday, we are able to take a lunch break, walk from the church to someplace to grab a sandwich and then walk a bit more before we get back to the church. We can walk a couple of miles, have a quick sit-down lunch and be back in the office in about an hour.
It was the best part of my day, but it wasn’t the only good part.
At the church family night, I went through the line last and when I had my plate filled, I looked around the room to choose a place to sit. Normally, I sit with parents and talk, but I was in the mood to be with the children. I chose a table with three young girls, their mothers sitting at the next table. I asked the youngest if I could sit at their table. She replied, “This is the kids’ table.” I asked, “If I act like a kid can I sit here?” “Ok,” she said. When I sat down, she asked me if I had “hot pickles.” I said I had regular pickles. “OK.” All three girls seemed to be enjoying the menu more than I. We had hot dogs, macaroni and cheese and vegetables with ranch dressing. I liked the baby carrots and snap peas. I don’t mind a hot dog, but wasn’t quite in that mood last night. I looked over and saw that two of the girls were really enjoying the macaroni and cheese. The youngest one, next to me, was eating her hot dog which she had pulled out of the bun. “Do you like macaroni and cheese?” I asked. “It’s too hot,” she said. I was thinking of the question about the pickles, so I responded, “It’s not spicy,” taking a bite of mine. “Not that kind of hot!” she declared. I finally got it. “I think it has cooled while you’ve been sitting here.” She took a tiny bite and declared that it was OK.
That was a good part of my day, but not the only one.
I got to the church early, around 6:30 am. The building is quiet at that time of the morning and I can often get a lot of work done. I sat at my desk and got all of the worship notes into the computer, a task often reserved for the end of the day on Wednesdays. Then I made up the worship bulletin for Friday’s communion service at an area care center. That is usually a Thursday task. I looked at my watch. It was getting close to 7:30, but I misread my watch. It has an old-fashioned display with a big hand and a little hand. It only has lines where the numbers are. At my glance, I thought it was 8:30, which was near the time I had to leave for a meeting. I pulled out my phone to check for messages and discovered that I had mis-read my watch. The phone has a digital display with actual numbers. I had a whole extra hour and I had accomplished a couple of hours work in a single hour. I was “clicking!” I sat back at my desk and got most of a report written before I had to leave for my meeting.
It was a good part of the day, but not the only one.
I was frustrated when I headed up to the choir loft for practice a little before 7 pm. I had been wrestling with a computer problem for most of the day. I sat visiting with the other choir members waiting for the practice to start and my phone vibrated. It was the computer tech support person. I had to leave the loft and go to my computer. Later, after I missed the start of the rehearsal, I sat next to a young man who I’ve known for almost all of his life. His father was sitting next to him on the other side. The young man wasn’t enjoying the music we were singing or the rehearsal very much. Since I know him pretty well, I started to whisper puns and jokes to him between songs or when the choir took a break. I’d lean in to him and make a silly comment when we had a few measures’ rest. He started laughing and giggling. Then we tried to suppress our laughter so as not to distract the others. Pretty soon we were both enjoying the rehearsal.
It was a good part of my day, but not the only one.
I was sitting in the outer office going over long report forms that we have to complete every year for the yearbook of the church’s national setting. None of us like all of the questions and numbers we have to provide, so we tend to put off completing the job. It takes most of the office to get the various answers we need. A church member walked in and showed us a gift he had made for some musicians who will be playing Irish music at our church in a little over a week. It was beautiful. I commented that we needed some kind of gift for our janitor who will soon be leaving the job, but not the congregation. At first he kind of frowned and said he couldn’t think of anything. A few minutes later he said, “Let me look at home. I might find something.” I know that he will bring a very nice gift that we can give the janitor. He can be a bit grouchy, but he is a real gem. I’m so glad he belongs to our church.
It was a good part of the day, but not the only one. There were lots of others.
The day was long and tiring and there were more than the usual count of frustrations. But it was a good day.
It was the best part of my day, but it wasn’t the only good part.
At the church family night, I went through the line last and when I had my plate filled, I looked around the room to choose a place to sit. Normally, I sit with parents and talk, but I was in the mood to be with the children. I chose a table with three young girls, their mothers sitting at the next table. I asked the youngest if I could sit at their table. She replied, “This is the kids’ table.” I asked, “If I act like a kid can I sit here?” “Ok,” she said. When I sat down, she asked me if I had “hot pickles.” I said I had regular pickles. “OK.” All three girls seemed to be enjoying the menu more than I. We had hot dogs, macaroni and cheese and vegetables with ranch dressing. I liked the baby carrots and snap peas. I don’t mind a hot dog, but wasn’t quite in that mood last night. I looked over and saw that two of the girls were really enjoying the macaroni and cheese. The youngest one, next to me, was eating her hot dog which she had pulled out of the bun. “Do you like macaroni and cheese?” I asked. “It’s too hot,” she said. I was thinking of the question about the pickles, so I responded, “It’s not spicy,” taking a bite of mine. “Not that kind of hot!” she declared. I finally got it. “I think it has cooled while you’ve been sitting here.” She took a tiny bite and declared that it was OK.
That was a good part of my day, but not the only one.
I got to the church early, around 6:30 am. The building is quiet at that time of the morning and I can often get a lot of work done. I sat at my desk and got all of the worship notes into the computer, a task often reserved for the end of the day on Wednesdays. Then I made up the worship bulletin for Friday’s communion service at an area care center. That is usually a Thursday task. I looked at my watch. It was getting close to 7:30, but I misread my watch. It has an old-fashioned display with a big hand and a little hand. It only has lines where the numbers are. At my glance, I thought it was 8:30, which was near the time I had to leave for a meeting. I pulled out my phone to check for messages and discovered that I had mis-read my watch. The phone has a digital display with actual numbers. I had a whole extra hour and I had accomplished a couple of hours work in a single hour. I was “clicking!” I sat back at my desk and got most of a report written before I had to leave for my meeting.
It was a good part of the day, but not the only one.
I was frustrated when I headed up to the choir loft for practice a little before 7 pm. I had been wrestling with a computer problem for most of the day. I sat visiting with the other choir members waiting for the practice to start and my phone vibrated. It was the computer tech support person. I had to leave the loft and go to my computer. Later, after I missed the start of the rehearsal, I sat next to a young man who I’ve known for almost all of his life. His father was sitting next to him on the other side. The young man wasn’t enjoying the music we were singing or the rehearsal very much. Since I know him pretty well, I started to whisper puns and jokes to him between songs or when the choir took a break. I’d lean in to him and make a silly comment when we had a few measures’ rest. He started laughing and giggling. Then we tried to suppress our laughter so as not to distract the others. Pretty soon we were both enjoying the rehearsal.
It was a good part of my day, but not the only one.
I was sitting in the outer office going over long report forms that we have to complete every year for the yearbook of the church’s national setting. None of us like all of the questions and numbers we have to provide, so we tend to put off completing the job. It takes most of the office to get the various answers we need. A church member walked in and showed us a gift he had made for some musicians who will be playing Irish music at our church in a little over a week. It was beautiful. I commented that we needed some kind of gift for our janitor who will soon be leaving the job, but not the congregation. At first he kind of frowned and said he couldn’t think of anything. A few minutes later he said, “Let me look at home. I might find something.” I know that he will bring a very nice gift that we can give the janitor. He can be a bit grouchy, but he is a real gem. I’m so glad he belongs to our church.
It was a good part of the day, but not the only one. There were lots of others.
The day was long and tiring and there were more than the usual count of frustrations. But it was a good day.
