I am grateful for the smell of rain, and lilacs, and fresh cut grass, and a really good lotion, and Chi hair products, and grilled meat air wafting through a parking lot.

I am grateful for a full calendar – actually, not that grateful for a full calendar, but I AM grateful for a calendar so my old brain doesn’t lose all the things that make the calendar full.

A few weeks ago, a man in my life pointed something out to me – cars no longer have bumpers. Well, they DO, but they don’t. What in the world. I have been driving all these years and follow bumperless cars every single day and had not realized the bumpers are no longer bumper bumpers. We used to be able to sit on the back bumper. I could prop my foot on the bumper and tie my shoe. I could STAND on the bumper to see above the tall people at the parade or the fireworks show. WHY DID THEY TAKE AWAY THE BUMPER. Okay, now that word sounds ridiculous in my head.

And then I got to thinking…where did the hood ornaments go? I remember my Dad teaching me (a few years ago during drivers ed years) that I should keep the line of sight from the hood ornament to the right lane line or shoulder as a reference point, and if I did that, the car was in the right place going down the highway. Hood ornaments were pretty cool, and now they are pretty invisible.

I am grateful for such a random memory of standing on a bumper and driving with Dad.

I am grateful, beyond grateful but I am not sure what word works for beyond grateful, so I am beyond grateful for granddaughter concerts that I was invited to attend by Zoom in the last week. Heart bursting proud and I am pretty sure my granddaughters are the best that middle school is privileged to have in their beginner band and advanced choir and orchestra.

I am grateful for Zoom all over again.

I am really grateful to be revisiting the sin of judgment through this book. I am convicted all over again at every thought, every turn, all day long…I have a lot of work to do.

I am grateful God knows my name and all that I am, and He hears my prayer even before it becomes words.

Finally, I am grateful for a newly discovered restaurant that wafts good smells all over the parking lot and makes the best fajitas and handmade corn tortillas I have had in a very long time.

When we take time to notice the simple things in life, we never lack for encouragement. We discover we are surrounded by a limitless hope that’s just wearing everyday clothes. – April 25 desk calendar

I am grateful for time spent with Melvin on Saturday. It did this mama heart so good.

I am grateful for time spent attending Reilly’s beginner band concert last week. It did this Ama heart so good.

I am grateful for spring in Kansas City. Right now, it is one of the two most beautiful times of the year to live here. I love the gorgeous deep green grass and the redbuds and the flowering crab trees and the phlox and the tulips everywhere I look.

I am grateful for funnies from my Dad that make me laugh.

I am grateful for brand new furniture that makes me so scared living with cats, but this is a luxury rarely experienced, having brand new furniture, and it makes me want to stare at it often.

I am grateful for two geese outside my window right now.

I am grateful for cool breeze and sunshine…at the same time.

I am grateful for low humidity.

I am grateful for Zoom family calls.

I am grateful to revisit one of my favorite books of all time, 12 Steps for the Recovering Pharisee…(like Me), by John Fischer, and am excited to begin the study with our small group.

I am grateful for the motivation to walk 5 miles before work in the mornings. I just wish that motivation was every day so it happened easily.

I am grateful for a cat brush.

I am grateful for a bathroom scale.

And I am grateful for chocolate cake.

My sister is a flute.

I am a French Horn.

She is tiny and dainty and has a pretty sound that is pleasant, leading from the front row. Not overly loud and obnoxious. But without her, something is definitely missing in the music. They put the flutes on the front row for a reason, and my sister belongs there.

I am heavy and awkward to carry and feel more at home on the third row, behind the woodwinds. Granted, the band needs the French horn to fill in the gaps, to complete the sound, and on occasion, the French horn shines, but most often, the French horn supports and finds satisfaction blending in without being in the spotlight.

My sister tries new things. I am opposite. I like what I like and that well-worn spot is comfortable.

She takes trips to lands she has never been. I am satisfied, for the most part, experiencing those lands from the comfort of the couch.

She eats the adventurous. I eat the very ordinary.

She set her sights on changing the world, motivated to make a difference and be heard. I set my sights on changing the sheets, or the channel, motivated by very little and just wanting to not make any waves.

How can it be that we were raised by the same parents in the same family, exposed to the same environment…and yet we are so very different?

I used to be jealous of her and her black Bundy flute case that weighed all of 18 ounces I am sure, that she had to carry from home to school on our daily walks. When it was my turn to try the instruments in 5th grade and I matched the French horn to a perfect bell, I lugged that used, scratched gold instrument -I was so excited – until I had to lug that beauty in its hard-sided brown case that weighed 58 pounds I am sure, to and from school every day. Mrs. Ramsey, my all-time favorite band teacher, felt sorry for me when I got to junior high. She made me the drum majorette. She could feel my pain – she was a French horn master and had my back.

I am grateful for Mrs. Ramsey.

I am also grateful for my sister on the front row. She is the kind of person people love – she “sings” a beautiful song and the band follows her lead.

I am grateful for my Holton Farkas, heavy as it is. It brought me a lot of joy so many years ago.

Finally, I am grateful the way God made me, perfectly happy on the third row, blending in behind the woodwinds.

I never wanted to be “that” person.

And now, as with most everything, I see life from a different perspective. So many times, I find myself internally “ah-ha-ing” when I realize my mom was who she was or why she was for this very reason. From a young daughter perspective with my own issues at the forefront, I could not see life as she saw life. Admittedly, sometimes I was annoyed.

Mom seemed to have a lot of ailments, and I promised myself I would NEVER talk about my ailments like she did.

Fast forward a few decades. Mom, I get it now. I am sorry for every eye roll and every “Oh brother” whispered under my breath.

I, too, am falling apart…or at least it sure feels like I am.

I will still do my best to keep my ailments to myself, but man oh man, getting older is no walk in the park.

I am grateful for Aleve and Advil and Tylenol.

I am grateful for a few more vegetables and fruits in my diet these days.

I am grateful for a long gone ex-mother-in-law who hammered supplement-taking into my brain.

I am grateful I don’t mind drinking lots of water or taking those supplements.

I am grateful for a NordicTrack in the basement that is getting a lot of attention.

I am grateful for motivation once again. Ebb and flow, for sure.

It is tax season and with an estate planning business just down the hall from our office, I am privileged to watch a steady stream of older people walking from the parking lot to the front doors of our building each day for several weeks this time of year. I am quickly becoming one of those older people. This morning, a sweet couple held hands as they shuffled their way down the sidewalk. A woman walked by herself up the sidewalk to the front door, all the while watching her elderly husband park the vehicle and join her at the entrance to the building. Watching them made me grateful for the man who holds my hand every day, grateful that he is so wise to do our taxes on his own and has them done for this year, grateful that he runs circles around me with his energy and drive.

The least I can do for him is not fall apart.