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Today, I cut the grass while my husband dozed, face down on the table after eating lunch.

The rechargeable battery didn't last long enough to finish the whole yard, yet I felt satisfied in a small way.

"Are you okay?" I yelled, buzzing by, like a hummingbird on orange trumpet vine blossoms.

He lifted his greying head, "Yes", drooping back down, despite the new green chair cushions the cats appreciate.

Last night he had an episode, almost like sleepwalking yet totally off balance and dead weight. Thank God, our younger son was downstairs and answered my frantic phone call.

I made stew in the early morning, before the day's expected heat, knowing we might need that thin comfort by evening.

Watered flowers and herbs in containers, as he slept until noon, with no memory of last night's scenario.

Filled the birdbath and birdfeeder, although baggage from vacation is still unpacked. The world seems both broken and blessed.

Received ten phone calls too many, the majority having to do with things going wrong with my mother that I thought were accomplished Thursday.

The things we take for granted, a blue sky, the ability of a heart to keep beating, our bodies fueled by food and oxygen.

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