This weekend was nothing special. Nothing exciting. Just an average, ordinary, every day kind of weekend in the Page household. We ran errands. We cleaned. We did laundry. All the usual things.
But when I went to bed last night, it was with a warm glow in my heart. I laid there, putting off the moment I gave in to the sleepiness that was tugging at my eyelids, just so I could enjoy the moment a little longer.
This, I told myself. This is what you need to remember when the Darkness looms, threatening to take your hope away. This is what it feels like to be happy. The warm tingle in your toes. The lightness in your limbs. The bubble of sun in your core. This is worth cherishing.
Why was I so happy? I don’t know. There wasn’t one particular thing. It was just a perfectly ordinary weekend, filled with itty bitty moments of joy. Moments like…
Bouncing a giggling Tori on my lap, swinging her over to daddy for kisses before covering her cheeks with smooches of my own.
Stealing a kiss from my husband as my dog, woofing his little heart out, struggled to get between us.
Petting a purring Oliver as he draped himself around my towel-wrapped, fresh from the shower shoulders.
Flying a grinning Tori over my head in the middle of a store, stopping an impending temper tantrum with that one motion.
Watching as that little girl stole the heart of the salesperson who stopped to see her with one gummy grin.
Discovering a fantastic new book and losing myself in its pages for a little while on a rainy afternoon.
These are the moments that made my weekend fantastic. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just every day, garden variety happiness. And I can’t think of anything better than that.