365 Days of Wonder: The Magic of Starting an Awe Journal
The news: everything is bad. Poets: okay, but what if everything is bad and we still fall in love with the moon and learn something from the flowers. ~Nikita Gill My dad died when I was thirty-one.
I wasn’t a child but barely felt like an adult. He had reached retirement, but only just. Mary Oliver got it right when she wrote, “Doesn’t , and too soon?” A few months later, I pulled myself out the door and off to work.
The December weather and my heart were both raw. Then I saw it: a single rosebud on a ragged bush. I laughed aloud. A rose blooming in winter?
And then I started to cry—for the wondrous absurdity of a tiny, lovely thing proclaiming its place in a dark world. This pink bud did not make things “all better.” And yet, for a moment, I remembered that my heart was capable of feeling more than grief.
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United States
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Recovered: 0
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India
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