While taking a stroll through the yard this morning I thought about dew. I had no choice actually, my bare feet insisted upon telling me how cold it was. Quickly recovering, I came to think about the momentary discomforts of nature, and the opportunities that are yielded.
The cold dew moistens the grass that would otherwise stab the feet of everyone who passed by throughout the day. Throughout the recent wave of summer heat, dew may be the only relief that keeps the lawn from dying.
The back injury that's lingered with me for seven weeks has kept me off of the ball fields. It's also given me more time to spend at home relaxing with Dena and building memories together. And the physical therapy that I began last week is teaching me strengthening exercises that may bring me back healthier than I've been since minor back discomfort started ten years ago.
My dad's death from liver cancer in 2001 deprived me of perhaps 30 more years of relationship with him. His courageous and peaceful dance with the disease have also planted seeds of strength within me that will last all the days of my life.
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