during all seasons
though it ebbs and flows, thin and thick, obvious then hidden.
Gentleness is truth:
be still and know that He is God,
you are loved,
you are forgiven.
Gentleness lately is laughter and pizza with Jeff and Oliver on a Friday night while watching Cool Runnings on Netflix after a week of Oliver and Jeff having the flu,
Watching football with family on cushioned couches and playing Catan,
A walk on the treadmill,
audio books while
my pointed pen dips in the ink again
practicing letter forms and flourishes ,
vitamin d and therapy lamps,
Maggie's soft furry winter coat and her peaceful presence next to me always.
A candle while I wash the dishes.
My husband taking Oliver with him to get groceries.
Gigi scratching Oliver's back, like she always would scratch my brothers backs growing up. "Mom can you scratch my back." Jon would ask all the time. Now, I hear Oliver ask "Gigi will you scratch my back."
Photos sent to me over text of my nieces and nephews.
Always Oliver's sweet face, when his long lashes look up at me, and Jeff's daily hugs.
Always, the sky.
Always, my pillow.
Early to the pick-up line waiting for school to let out, writing in my journal while light spills through the window.
It's cold and gray today. I paint another picture of two birds on a bare branch together, with a gray sky. A simple reminder of the comfort of company, of friends or family on slow ordinary sacred days in February.