Picking up this pen to write.
Awakening to sunlight and birdsong.
The softness of the cat in your lap, and the sharpness of the claw in your thigh as she settles in.
The warmth of a worn pair of slippers and the comfort of a worn pair of jeans.
The happiness that floods you at the sound of a friend’s laugh.
Cool water on your skin as you dive in.
Feeling the gentleness and intimacy of fingers interlaced.
The sound the refrigerator door makes when it opens.
Inhaling the scent of breakfast cooking on a Saturday morning.
The feeling of returning home at the end of a journey.
Brushing your teeth.
The sound of thunder rolling across the sky.
That contented fullness after a good meal.
Watching your favorite movie, for the hundredth time.
Taking a deep, lung-filling breath.
That endorphin high after exercise.
Communing with the trees on a morning walk.
Turning on the lights as the day fades.
Settling in with a book as the rain falls upon the roof.
Sipping a hot drink on a frigid day, or a cold drink on a sweltering day.
The laughter of children.
The sound of toast popping up when it’s ready.
Just the right pair of sunglasses for a sunny day.
That shade of red that you only see once a year when the maple leaves turn.
A hug that continues to hold you long after you part.
The silence that accompanies a snowfall.
Precious, taken for granted, everyday things
that shine like stars in a night sky,
distant and unreachable,
yet, breathtakingly beautiful
when seen from the distance of loss.