A grey November morning

Flames dancing

Slightly unseasoned wood snaps, pops and hisses

Steam rolls from my coffee mug wafting seductively toward the updraft of the fireplace

A cozy last rain before winter snows lay siege to the landscape

I cried at diagnosis; death was a gift

who are these people who claim to operate on brains

all I could think of was Jethro Bodine

driving his hillbilly truck and crowing

about how he was studying to be a brain surgeon

There’s a big old house in Gardiner, Maine

Fourteen rooms and twenty five years

of births, deaths, holidays, and daily life

and one perfect moment

I pull out from time to time

Home reclaimed from tenants

Working in my freshly painted kitchen

Midway between two weeks vacation from work

The abundance of Christmas just days past

Endless rooms upstairs filled with kids and chaos and love

Aroma of turkey and fresh baked rolls wafting throughout the heating system

Brings the kids running down the stairs in unison

At just the right time

A flurry of table setting as everyone exalts over the smells and sights

With no grumbles about a moment for grace and gratitude for this life,

                This day, this moment

Happy faces, chatter chatter chatter

Not a thought about work, school, cancer, legs that don’t run, responsibilities

                Between us

A smile spreads through my whole body

                For that moment

                                Even now.