Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigolds
You and your arithmetic will probably go far
Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigolds,
Seems to me you'd stop and see how beautiful they are.
It wasn't the presents. It wasn't the party. It wasn't the invites. It wasn't the redone house. It wasn't the lights. It wasn't the Christmas tree. It wasn't the pets playing with the ornaments. It wasn't the music. It wasn't the movies. It wasn't the gorgeous sunshine.
It was the moment my sister called me from the rehab center, awake for the first time in weeks, alive, ready to go home. It was her complaining because she couldn't get the nurses to leave her the walker, and how could she practice walking if they wouldn't leave her the walker? (I said, "They don't trust you - they don't want you walking out of there before you're ready. :) ) It was her vowing to be home for Christmas. It was her saying how grateful she was to everyone, even to God. It was her saying she was going to try to be better to her body, because she felt like she'd been given a second chance.
It was my mother calling me first thing Christmas morning. I always love hearing from her. But hearing her NOT coughing And yes, I sent the flowers. And yes, I forgot the card. Oh well.
And it's watching my daughter, Jessica, organize the Christmas meal, cradle her son. Listening to her talk about her job, and realizing how important the work she's doing is (pediatric nurse). Watching my son-in-law, Justin, teach Jackson to play drums, play on the computer (the IT guys). watching them all together, such a close, beautiful triangle. The pyramid of strength.
It was reading my son, Bryan's story. How shockingly talented he is, and how shocking his story is. How does he know these things? This kid who can paint like a pro, who could have any job he wanted, and what does he want to do - be a writer. That apple in the Big Apple.
And playing outside with Jackson, having him hand me acorns, one at a time. Delighted that I was delighted. And it was sitting outside by myself with Jackson in the front yard, singing the Inchworm song to him, like I used to sing to his mother.