We play with words every day. Sometimes together, sometimes separately. But our days are full of words and books and writing.
We have a beautiful, warm home.
We have a lovely, reliable car.
Though I remain disabled, my quality of life is good, and so much better than some who suffer from what I have.
We have friends who make us laugh and who gladly eat my cooking.
I have a partner who adores me, and the feeling is mutual.
There’s more. All the little things, some more big things. The birds in the garden, travel, etc.
Basically, I’m reminded that I’m incredibly lucky, and though I may be undeserving, I’m not in any way taking it for granted. It could disappear tomorrow, but I’d still be grateful for every minute.