To be very clear I am not feeling sorry for myself in this entry. I realize the weariness and heaviness I feel this morning is nothing compared to what thousands of people are dealing with in Texas and hundreds of thousands in India. But I am weary this morning and somehow feel the need to give voice to that. It is the long Labour Day weekend. We have had a taste of the cool temperatures to come. We’ve had the furnace going for the last two nights and I have not been in the lake since Monday. Monday afternoon I went for a delightful swim with a friend and then we sat on the shore for two hours enjoying the wonderful gift of conversation. Time in no way wasted when two friends catch up discussing a hundred things and feeling the deep connection of experience and caring. The rest of the week unfolded dishing out moments of obligation and duty, sharing and giving and being there as best I could for friends and family. On this day that approaches my parents 69 wedding anniversary I am burdened with the challenges that lie ahead for them. I wish I had the ability to make the impact of physical and cognitive impairment easier for them as they face the changes that are sure to come. One day at a time is the wisdom I am holding on to this morning. One days gifts and one days burdens. One days worries and one days blessings. Put your feet on the floor and be what you are called to be. Give what you can and take what you are given from those who are walking their own paths. You will get back in your lake and you will again feel the lifting of fatigue and feel flickers of hope and optimism .