be:

I told one of my "when I was your age" stories this morning.  Tori the only one really listening.  She the last to leave gets a little more leisurely start to her day. Tori the one though that told me the other night that my farms days are in the past.  OUCH.  Kids say the darndest things.

I told the story of my Good Fridays. The ones that are so etched in my memory. Those days no one went to school on Good Friday - neither the public or privately schooled. We never missed Good Friday service at our little country church. The service that only a handful attended.  It often snowed or rained as if it was all part of the plan. I remember maybe a lunch out but there was no Panera bread maybe we went to Big Boy or Harvest Table. The afternoon spent quietly at home.

This morning we all woke up. Normal day. In less than two hours - we all went our separate ways. I paid the bills, walked the dog and the like. I even attended my quarterly AED training. I stopped at Costco on my way home. Josh is on a hike this afternoon and Tallie is heading to a soccer game. Husband is home after a week in California.

Part of me wanted to ache for the past. The other part realized that won't do anything.

 Instead gratitude for both what was and what is today.
Good Friday