Saturday, June 9, 2012

It’s the Little Things

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog about all those singular moments that make up a life time.  The birth of your children, marriage, or losing a parent.  When you look back over your life these are the things that jump out, they are like the peaks on an echocardiogram…straight line, blip, straight line, blip. 
But recently on one long drive from my home in South Florida to my mother’s home in Ohio I came across some events that made me realize, sometimes it’s the little things.
It started when I was driving the first leg of my journey from West Palm to Greensboro to meet Kirk at the Georgia house.  (I drove up a couple days early and he flew in later.  It saves on his vacation days and hey, it works). 
 I decided to take the back roads up through northern Florida and southern Georgia.  Me, Kenny Chesney, Tim McGraw, Rascal Flatts and various other country friends.  My boys and I were cruising up 441 and I drove by acres of tobacco fields.  But there, right in the middle of the sea of green was about an acre of sunflowers.  They were tall and as the bright afternoon sun hit the yellow of the flowers, a brilliant glow reflected off.  It was an amazing sight.  I pulled my car over and sat and enjoyed the wonderful gift. 
A few hours later I made the final turn towards the lake.  I came up over a ridge and looked out over the vast rolling hills that lay in the valley below me.  The sun was on the horizon and there was a light mist rising from the trees.  Again I pulled over and just sat, enjoying the beauty that nature provides.  
A couple days later, Kirk and I were sitting on the back deck, watching a heard of deer cross the golf course behind the cottage and stroll down to a small clover field just at the edge of the woods.  We sat watching, quietly enjoying the view when a humming bird flew up next to where we were sitting and fluttered stationary for what seemed like twenty seconds.
On my trip from Georgia to Ohio I saw acres of farmland, farmers out on tractors, working their fields.  I saw a horse running full out across a pasture, the wind blowing it’s mane up in the air.   I giggled like a school girl imaging it’s joy at just running free.
As I turned into my old neighborhood, I saw my parents home, the one we’ve lived in for over 57 years.  The familiarity always makes me stop and smile. 
I sat by my father’s grave and chatted for awhile.
And as I got into the car to drive the 18 hours back home, I was excited about what wonderful sights I might see and I realized sometimes it’s the little things that make up a lifetime.

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