This Beautiful Life

I woke up this morning and felt the cooler air of autumn coming in my bedroom window. It was just enough to make me pull my down comforter up a bit more around my shoulders and to make me move a few inches closer to Eric’s side of the bed. I could hear the rain coming down and although I knew it was time for me to get out of bed, I shut my eyes again and snuggled up closer to my sleeping husband.

I then woke up Eric, got the kids up too, and told them we all had about a half hour before we had to leave for church. I jumped into the shower and felt the hot water hit my back. I stayed under the water just a little longer than I needed to. As I wrapped a towel around myself and opened my bathroom door, I was surprised by my daughter Emma who popped in to borrow my brush. “Bonjour, Mama!” she exclaimed. She started to giggle, but being half awake myself, I couldn’t think of a response to that so I offered her a hug.

Coming downstairs, Emma continued to giggle...and she was speaking with a French accent. “It is easier to talk with a French accent when you are angry”, she said as she laughed. Apparently donning a knitted beret had transformed my girl who by now had her brother laughing too. Typical Sunday morning silliness in our house...

After mass, Emma asked her dad if he’d build a fire today. Upon our arrival home, Eric prepped the fireplace and I spent the afternoon cozy and warm. The kids each joined me for awhile to read, in between finishing up homework. Doing laundry and watching football in the other room, my husband came in at one point with a knitted throw fresh from the drier. He placed it on me and then added another log to the fire.

By 4pm, I knew I had to get up out of my comfortable spot near the fireplace to make the most of the remaining hours of my Sunday. I decided I’d make pumpkin bread and put a roast chicken in the oven. I thought of the schoolwork I had waiting for me to complete and decided I’d do a little of that too before evening hit.

The workweek would begin again tomorrow and next weekend I’d be flying out to a conference that would take me away from home over the Columbus Day holiday weekend. But I knew if I could just hang onto how wonderful this Sunday had been, I would be okay. This Sunday had been Heaven. No matter how I spent the next five hours before I crawled back into my bed, I would know how truly blessed I am to have this cozy home, this warm family, this beautiful life.