I am so thankful for Sunday mornings. I am weary this morning and actually slept in longer than I normally do. The sky is overcast but the air is warm. It looks like fall for sure and I have not rallied yet to tackle the day. I am pensive and somewhat melancholy and will take my time. I will start with this entry and go from there. First of all Sunday mornings are a time for thankfulness. I went to bed with thoughts of Caleb and Ashlie returning from a wedding in Fredericton and Meg and Cody in Jasper for a friend’s funeral. Their friend was a victim of the horrendous massacre in Las Vegas. How to even get my head around that is more than I can do but I mourn with the girl’s dad who yesterday buried his second child. My heart breaks for him. Caleb and Ashlie got home safely and for that I am so thankful. Another week begins and challenges lie ahead.I remember in the first few years of finding my way through grief I called these mornings my Sunday mournings. I usually listened to music, had a long bath and cried a lot of tears.Sunday morning remains a quiet, reflective time and I am so grateful for what this time provides. I regroup and draw on my reserves of strength to fit me for the week ahead.Sometimes I truly don’t know where the next bit of energy or optimism is coming from. I sometimes during this time want to crawl back into to bed and escape the rest of the day. I seldom do and for that I am thankful. I usually hop to the rest of the day, accomplish a few things and prepare a Sunday supper for my loved ones. I love the trajectory this day offers when I take a few minutes or a couple of hours to just be in my weariness.
Another Sunday Morning
