It Is O.K.

Long is the night  a cold wind blows,
and an icy rain falls,
appearing in the light of a streetlamp
as streams of sparkling drops falling from the heavens.  

I avoid squishing bugs if I see them first and I always throw back any fish I catch. I apologize to trees when cutting them down for wood to heat with in the winter and I ask the ants politely to stay outside but they often violate that request much to my chagrin. 
I open doors for people and say thank you, please and "beg your pardon".
I adore the impish playfulness of small children in shopping carts and of elderly people when they are caught off-guard by something they have done that turns out silly. 
I cry when I am overtired. I cry when all evident options have been exhausted to no avail and then I wait on God and He is faithful.
I love to ride along highways and roads I have not taken before or return to places I have not seen in quite some time and I cherish the deep angst I feel as memories from long ago flood my mind as I drive by old, familiar places.

With little effort I convince myself that my grandmother is still sitting by the window of her house watching the traffic go by on the nearby road. I convince myself the lights are on as night falls and I know she has probably hidden candy in the sides of her chair or in her pockets despite the doctor's orders. I remember holidays, summers, reunions of the past that were held in her house and yard. I convince myself that time has frozen and, were I to drive by today, life would be as it was and this craving in my heart would be satisfied.

And...I love waking up from a nap with one cat on my lap and another draped over my chest, both sound asleep and snoring gently. I wait to move them off of me until I begin to feel their weight as a burden and then I gently push them off and onto the floor. Minutes later they have found another place to snuggle down and sleep. They dream of jumping with abandon from chair to couch to chair. They dream of knocking over glasses and kicking car keys behind coffee tables knowing it will take a long time to find those keys and they laugh in their dreams as they think of my scolding them and spritzing them with the water from a spray bottle. They run from the water only to return to the exact same spot moments later. 

I love the wind and the rain and the sun and the shade. I love the smell of the ocean, frying bacon, freshly cut grass, t-shirts with the faint scent of a loved one lingering on them and I love the time I have left to love. 

Standing at the ocean's edge, salt spray blowing onto my face
aware of the vastness stretching out before me
aware of my finite self
and it is o.k.
It is o.k. with me.