Gifts

Last night I made myself a little dinner. Thank God for Trader Joe's. A frozen quiche, along with a wine that Peter and I bought together for use as an every day table wine. It is the last of that bunch. I thought that if Peter were here we would be having some scrumptious creation of his, surely not a little frozen quiche. This is the "new normal," and I try to spice it up with a lit candle, music, and some wine.

As I was about to entertain the thought of having a pity party, the neighbor came over with a gift from his wife. The impetus of the visit was a humidifier for Kirsten, whose sinuses are, well, bleeding, and while he was messing with the humidifier, I was examining the rose. "Is this a real rose?" I exclaimed. "Can't be," he said, as he fiddled with the controls. I pulled on the leaves, and then one of the petals. It looked too perfect. I smelled it. "It's real!" I realized my little dinner was turning out to be pretty special.

The gift was very fitting. "Journey," it says on the mug. My neighbor wrote some encouraging words on the beautiful card, and also mentioned that the last rose of the season (January 2nd!) was so beautiful and was a special gift for me.

I'm thankful for the love and encouragement I'm receiving on this journey.