I really love Garrison Keillor..

Through all this sadness and worry, I have been shown such light.

From you, my sweet friends, and your love, support and prayers. To a family you've never met..to a brother you've never known..

And seeing my darling granddaughter, Alyssa, post on the "what are you doing now" portion of Facebook..

"I'm praying for my Uncle.."

Imagine. An 18 year old-college-bound-too-cool-for-this-world-girl posting this so all her friends could see as well..

To my boss, who as I marched into his office and promptly told him..

"I have never used any sick days and my vacation days are all used up, so I'm going to need to take a few days off to be sick in the very near future..probably a Thursday and Friday and I'm going to be flying to Arizona to see my brother and I am expecting sick pay because, well, one certainly can't miss any hours on the paycheck you know.."

..said to me..

"well, yes, you do look a little sickly..must be that slow-moving sickness that you have and it might require a Thursday and Friday {in the near future} to fully feel better enough to come back to work on oh, let's say a Monday.."

Thank you.

Thank you all.

And it's noticing an article in Sunday's paper by Garrison Keillor and tearing it out, to be read at a later time..like tonight when I couldn't keep my focus on the dumb TV shows that were droning on in the background..

The title, aptly, is..

"Remember, life is good, no matter the disappointments"

And I won't write out the whole thing, and because it was syndicated, I'll bet you can Google it (I really love that Google..and Garrison Keillor)..

But what he wrote, and the timing of when I read it was a tiny miracle..and that's what we need right now..tiny miracles.

Not HUGE ones, although curing cancer and making an avocado with a smaller seed would be on my top 10 list..

He speaks of a young girl at a party he attended- casually sitting down at a piano and playing Chopin Prelude No.2 in A minor...exquisitely. An unplanned moment..serendipity..

"and played so beautifully, it transformed the entire evening..transformation is no easy trick: it's what art promises and usually doesn't deliver. But she did."

"It was so much more than we deserved to hear..
the plane falls , the good man is gone (John Updike), the company slides, the lawn turns brown, but with Chopin you come back to the basics: Do I regret this life?"

He talks about the depressing "old-age monologues" and the "air of regret"..

He goes on.."Poor Me, I Am Unaccountably 65, My Brain Is Leaking, My Legs Are Gone, Where Has It Gone, The Beauty And The Dream?"

Then he writes.. "What makes me love cities, despite the uproar, are the constant reminders of the generosity of life, the readers on the subway, the cheeses in the deli, the pictures in the gallery, the musicians in the park. The Exuberant salad eaten amid bus exhaust and the drawn faces of passers-by. Life is good, no matter the disappointments -O God, the disappointments.

Just square your shoulders and give them your utter best. Life is insurmountable, but we mount up every morning and ride forward."

Thank you dear dear friends for giving us the strength to mount up once again, and like Larry loves to do, ride again every morning.

Teensy tiny miracles..

-me