Yesterday, returning home from work was one of the first normal days I've had in several weeks. Two weeks ago, Fran and Alex were in Sudbury. Last week, I was in Pittsburgh. So, last night, it was one of life's simple yet perfect pleasures to arrive home, put out the recycling and garbage, say hello to my neighbour then peek in through the front door window to see my son running up and down the front hallway yelling out "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy"
Stepping into the house, giving my son a big hug, kissing my beautiful wife, breathing in the incredibly delicious smell of the pasta sauce she had prepared for supper, then playing on the kitchen floor with Alexander and talking to Francine about the day each of us had.
And thinking to myself: Man, I'm one lucky bastard.
2 comments:
and one wise man to recognize it!
What a beautiful entry.
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