Someone said to me this week, “You’re a bit day-obsessed, aren’t you?”
“I am?”
“Each chapter of your series was a day, and this book,” she held up Mom’s Company Towels, “is a countdown of every day this year.”
I had to agree. There is physical evidence that I’m day-obsessed. But aren’t we all? With every 24-hour cycle we are presented with a new day. One at a time. We can plan ahead, but there’s no living ahead. We do all of our living one day, one hour, one minute at a time.
That fact causes me to think about how I’m spending those hours, because I won’t get them again. Sure, if all goes well, I’ll get a new day tomorrow, but I won’t know for sure until tomorrow, so I can only be certain about today.
See how easy it is to be day-obsessed? Yesterday marked the first day of my 54th year. It was a Smatterday birthday, filled with grocery shopping, a matinee, reservations for dinner, board games with my family, and ended as I sat across a jigsaw puzzle with my soul mate, as we pieced together a vista we decided we must someday see in person. It was the perfect way to end the day.
Yes, I’m obsessed with our days here on earth, and grateful for each one. Thanks for living them with me.
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