Thanksgiving didn’t make me thankful, but it got me thinking on the topic.
I don’t know how I compare with you, but for the record, my sense of thankfulness is often hidden beneath a layer of cluelessness, laziness and scar tissue. What I enjoy the most are the random ambushes of little moments of wonderfulness. I call them day lily moments.
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Random Example: The Possum
Once upon a time I was too cool for country music. I’m talking with this lady and a song comes on, and one of my ears leaves the conversation and heads towards the speakers, man voice, syrup soaking sawdust, kind of voice that sounds like he was smoking cigars before he could shave, and I say, “Who is that! And what is that song!”
George Jones. He Stopped Loving Her Today. Made up for hearing late by hearing frequent: I’ve listened to that song 500 times, and that first time, that was a fine moment, and every time since has been a little day lily moment. Neither Matthew, Mark, Luke or John ever heard the song, and I’m grateful to have been among the living when the song came to life.
Here’s another one. I’m trucking a load of one-man’s-junk-is-another-man’s-treasure, find myself on a two lane blacktop in the middle of the piney woods, bad radio reception, and the only station I can catch is this chanky chank country station and that’s when it happens; John Anderson, Black Sheep, where I meet the acquaintance of a line that just made my heart happy, “I tell her what my poppa said to my momma when he got off a highball train,” and here comes the good part, “Wake me up early, be good to my dogs, and teach my children to pray.”
That is a fine assemblage of English words by a former roofer with a high school sheepskin. That’s a day lily moment.
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Maybe I Need To Define Day Lily
I think people and day lilies have a lot in common. We’re there, we’re there, alive, some greenery, but nothing special, and then don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it, we pop a flower, and boy is it pretty, and I hope you noticed, because now it’s gone…
That’s how a lot of days go. Alive, alive, nothing special, and then a day lily moment.
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Alex, Give Me Wit For $500
Regular, ordinary days, were made special by day lily moments: the day I heard a woman declare that she “didn’t want any man who looked better than her or smelled better than her”; and the day a man said his wife only “keeps me around for my paycheck and to kill spiders.”
And there’s that day when I heard the story about a ladies weekday Bible study, and one of the ladies asked for prayer for a soap opera character and her fictional medical crisis. And everybody went along.
Another day lily moment was a woman telling about how her mother reacted when as a teenage girl she whined about something not being fair, “Life ain’t fair! Fair is where you take a hog on Saturday!”
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There Are Tribes In This World
The two biggest tribes are Men and Women, and women seem to say more.
I was talking with a woman, and the conversation steered towards cats. So, being from the tribe of Men, I say, “Cat’s are kind of arrogant.”
And she, from the tribe of Women, says, “Cats are like third graders, whose mothers were cheerleaders.” I’m not sure what that meant, but I smiled like it was a double day lily moment.
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Thankfulness Is Having A Glass
I’m neither glass full nor glass empty; mostly I’m just a glass. What smiles me up, and thanks me up, are the little day lily moments…
…like a good, sincere hug…or the honesty of a dog’s tail wag.
Porch swing, a little solitude and a mockingbird doing a solo off to the left…that’ll do it.
Afternoon coffee seems more of a treat than morning coffee. After that first sip I sometimes make a big sound effect, even if nobody is around to hear it.
I don’t care that much about money, but it’s always a good moment to stick your hand in a pocket of something you haven’t worn since last winter and find a $20 and couple $1’s.
Weather can be a day lily moment. I like summer breezes and creative clouds. I like when rain stops. Every rainbow is a day lily in the air. There are sunsets and sunsets and then there’s that one where you pull off on the shoulder of the road and wonder how much prettier heaven could be.
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A Detour To Acknowledge This Particular Thanksgiving
Round about last year, seemed like every story was about my father and his cancer. I thought it would go that way this year too, when we cycled back around on the Lasts, like his last Thanksgiving.
This was our first Thanksgiving without him. There’s no script for this. We did the gathering thing. We ate, we talked, kids made noise, smiles were smiled, laughs were laughed, we watched football. Around mid afternoon I thought I’d head to the cemetery. It seemed like the right thing to do.
The day lily moment was standing at the foot of his grave and realizing that he’d approve of how healed up we all are. He’d have wanted smiles if he was here; he’d have wanted smiles now that he’s gone.
“Go on” seemed to be in the air, so I left.
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This edition of Uncle P’s Bedtime Stories is brought to you by Eighty-one, which offers you this bonus quote from the cats-are-like-3rd-graders lady, “You can feed carrots to a snake all day but it won’t make them a bunny rabbit.”
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