CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 36: THE GOOD DAYS
By early summer, my mother had more good days than bad ones.
Not because she was completely better.
But because she had stopped measuring life by what she had lost.
One Saturday morning, she called me.
"Do you want to go to the farmers' market?"
I blinked.
"You hate crowds."
"I know."
"You hate waking up early."
"I know."
I smiled.
"Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"
She laughed.
A real, warm laugh.
At the market, she bought fresh flowers, strawberries, and entirely too many peaches.
"I don't even like peaches," she admitted.
"Then why did you buy them?"
She looked around and smiled.
"Because I like being here."
I stared at her.
That answer would have been impossible a year ago.
We sat on a bench eating pastries.
After a while she said:
"I spent so many years planning for tomorrow that I forgot to enjoy today."
I looked at her.
"And now?"
She took a deep breath.
"Now I want to notice things."
The flowers.
The sunshine.
The taste of coffee.
The sound of Ella laughing.
I smiled.
"Those are good things to notice."
She nodded.
"They're enough."
That afternoon, I realized something.
The woman sitting beside me wasn't just surviving anymore.
May you like
She was living.
And maybe that was its own kind of miracle.
