Joy

The birthday party was a success.

The birthday boy was asleep when we arrived

and didn't really want to wake up.

I tried, Mom tried,

Linda tried.

No go even though

we told him we were there.

A few minutes later Linda said 

Judy and Butch just got here

to celebrate your birthday

and he popped up.

 I had to call Butch a thunder stealer. 

 That''s Butch in the front, still reeling from my name calling.

We had doughnuts waiting for Dad.

His even had some candles.

 Life is different now.

I still miss "him"

but I am blessed to be able to hug him.

I can hold his hand.

He knows I am someone who cares about him.

He always knows his wife is Toots.

He doesn't always know that mom is Toots. 

It is okay.

I know that joy

is a matter of choice and perspective.

If you look for it, it is there

in all circumstances.

My twins' death anniversary is on Dad's birthday.

It is always a day I wake up a bit sad.

I choose to be grateful though.

Life isn't always pretty

but Jesus loves me.

Therefore, life is always good.

I choose to be grateful for what I have and 

not ungrateful for what I don't have.

I recently read a poem that I hadn't seen in years.

I put it in my desk drawer

that I open several times a day.

I want to remember it.

I want to always live it.

One ship sails East,
And another West,
By the self-same winds that blow,
Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales,
That tells the way we go.

~Ella Wheeler Wilcox 

Now, this gives me joy.