Sunday morning gave us sunshine, soft lavender cirrus clouds to the north, compounding cumulous to the south. Possession Sound quietly reflected the ribbons of light blue sky. On Mt. Baker, the Olympics and Cascade mountains sunlight sparkled like diamonds against white shoulders wrapped in ermine.
The morning gifted us with calm. I would love to think this quiet peace is the way life should always be. I want to think quiet contentment is normal.
Such normalcy would allow us to go about our routines, to easily find comfort in the ordinary.
Sunday afternoon the clouds from the south herded the cirrus clouds toward British Columbia and scattered rain. Geraldine in her wheel chair and I took a flying run up the cul de sac to see the neighbors’ Christmas lights. We got wet but laughed all the way into the house.
3 PM a new caregiver quit before she had a chance to start. So we must work her shifts until we contract with someone new.
3:30 PM a resident followed a delusion out the front door. My husband followed him until reality tripped our dear friend and he fell into a bush.
Sunday evening our expectation of quiet normalcy was gone. We were tempted to complain that life wasn’t fair. Instead we served supper and gave thanks for the brief respite of calm in the morning.
Tomorrow is always another day.