Finding Beauty

Yesterday in the early evening, I was driving along listening to my music when Jimmy Lafave came on to sing, Rain Falling Down. A sweet, hard to describe, everything is beautiful feeling came over me, brought on by Jimmy’s voice, the time of day, and the melody. And I knew it was mine to feel because I’d felt it many times before with other songs and other things in other times and other places.

I also knew it wasn’t something I could share. It was peculiar to me and that time and that place. A lot of life is like that. I can see a flower, a rushing stream, a sunrise, a sunset and they all might bring the beauty and the wonder rushing in, but there’s really no good way to pass along the feelings I feel even when I’m in the company of someone or others. It just washes over me like a warm wave lapping my feet as I walk on the beach; I take a slow, deep breath and soak it in.

In retrospect, during the years of my wife’s illness and first hard years of grief, I think I lost the ability to have those feelings. But they’ve come back, and just in time, too. I think it will make the march into my ninth decade a lot more enjoyable. And I think it will make getting up every morning feel like an adventure. And I think it will mean standing on the porch soaking in the morning sun is a worthwhile endeavor.