The best thank you to pay life is to live it fully. I choose life.
Having loved and lost others and myself, I’ve gained insane gratitude for the moments. Right now, that’s Nescafé with a dollop of butter, a juicy red apple, and my writing table in a sunlit window.
I look out at palm trees and blooming oleander hedges. The old man across the way sits outside as usual, talking on his phone. An avant-garde violin piece sets a background on the radio, reminding me I too play violin. I’m ecstatic to have one to play after a time I thought I never would again.
The golden pothos and Swiss philodendron houseplants are thriving at last, here on the table. I brought them in off the windowsill where the northern Las Vegas sun was too bright for them. Less is more.
The month of May is always a rough month for me, because it marks the anniversaries of family members deaths. Gets me every time, no matter how many years since. I holed up, over-indulged in various ways; did what I had to do. Now again in June, the cocoon breaks open, and the butterfly works her way out to fly off to that one special flower, just over there.