Today was one of those days when I got pulled deeper and deeper into the dark side of humanity. I'll be honest. I've spent the last half dozen years or so being stripped of illusions on pretty much every front. While I haven't lost my natural inclination to find silver linings in just about anything, I have become depressingly capable of cynicism.
But then Roger came home.
I put on a skirt and sandals, we went out on the town in our Jeep, and I was reminded over and over how much good there is in the world to love.
Joining with friends, who were celebrating their son's wedding under streamers of tulle and fairy lights.
Calling Jack afterward to see if he'd like to go with us to dinner and hearing him answer "yes" without hesitation despite being deeply entrenched in his teenage years.
Eating perfectly cooked veggies and noodles at the Chinese restaurant next door to our old bookstore and catching up with our old friends who own it.
Taking a seriously random gift--old catalog cards for French special collection titles from Roger's work--to a friend who is always bursting with creativity and who knew immediately what she was going to use them for. Getting a tour of the glamper she's been fixing up in the backyard for her four little girls with bright paint, charming fabrics, and even a chandelier!
Dropping Jack off for an end-of-school-year party and hearing his friends call his name when they saw him, thrilled he had come.
Coming home, pouring an icy glass of blood orange San Pellegrino that the boys gave me for Mother's Day, and curling up with a Julia Glass novel that we're reading for book club this month.
I met her once. Julia. I still believe she and I would make good friends. Maybe I'm not as disillusioned as I thought.