RUSSELL

                    And afterwards we'd go get ice

                    cream at Fentons. I always get

                    chocolate and he gets butter-

                    brickle. Then we'd sit on this one

                    curb, right outside, and I'll count

                    all the blue cars and he counts all

                    the red ones, and whoever gets the

                    most, wins. I like that curb.          

                              RUSSELL

                    That might sound boring, but I

                    think the boring stuff is the stuff

                    I remember the most.

(UP)

I love those lines about the “boring” stuff being the most significant.

I write a lot. Most of my material comes from the mundane, trivial things. To narrow it down, take 2012 for instance. What stands out for me, what makes life really meaningful besides family, is observing how everyday life affects all of us. 

There was a little lady walking down the middle of a quiet street near my mother’s retirement center. Her walker didn’t have those bright yellow tennis balls on the back legs that help the walker glide. With every step, she scraped the pavement making a screeching sound. It wasn’t easy for her crooked hips to trudge up the slanted street, but she kept on scraping. Her perseverance inspired me. This ninety-something pound little lady was going to pay her rent, check her mail, or visit a friend. The fact that she had a junky walker didn’t stop her in the least. Her attire was just as bold and adventurous. She wore a bright floral blouse and floppy straw hat.

I got out of my car and asked,

 “Where are your tennis balls?”

She didn’t hear very well, so I asked her again. She gazed ahead like she was looking through a window at falling snow then chirped, 

“Well, I don’t know anyone who plays tennis.”

I usually don’t make New Year’s resolutions but this year I think my goal is to enjoy the background music so to speak. There are many miracles to be grateful for that get lost when we’re not looking. I’ll be thankful for: the blue sky of Oklahoma, making Christmas omelets for my son or chili for all of my kids after a long drive from Nashville, and a husband who unloads the dishwasher before he leaves for the day, “just because.” 

I am blessed with more than enough; I don’t know anyone who plays tennis either.