It was easy yesterday to feel like there’s nothing wrong. All of my aunts and uncles and most of my cousins and some of their kids — four generations — were gathered for Grandpa Snooky’s 83rd birthday. We joked about who’s the #1 grandchild and discussed ordering a bucket of chicken. We caught up with each other and fawned over the littlest family members.
Ever the humorist, Grandpa tried to convince a fully uniformed security guard to show up and take one of us away. We all laughed when the security guard said, “I heard it was somebody’s birthday…” and everyone’s first thought was that he might be a dancer hired for the birthday boy.
It was easy yesterday to feel like we were gathered in Grandma and Grandpa’s house for Sunday lunch instead of in a sterile, quiet hospital room. It was easy yesterday to feel like there’s nothing wrong.