Inertia kept me in bed for those few extra minutes after the alarm sounded this morning. It's during that time that we just want to cocoon ourselves in blankets and call in sick to work. We want to escape routine. We need a break.
But this morning, I was struck by the ordinary. It could be the most ordinary part of a day--flossing, getting dressed, taking the train to work, but you really don't notice the ordinary until it's out of place.
While walking to work this morning, someone caught my attention. She's there every day handing out newspapers in the Pedway. "Good morning everyone, Happy Wednesday." Tomorrow she'll be there handing out newspapers saying, "Good morning everyone, Happy Thursday."
The funny thing is, I have never really taken much notice of her before. I would really only notice her sing-songy voice in its absence. I just figure that so long as I take the same route to work, she'll always be there.
Two weeks ago, I took a seemingly ordinary trip back to Detroit to see my family. I was not expecting to find out about a serious sickness in the family. No one ever expects bad news. No one wants to cope with the possibility of losing someone, but we do expect and take for granted the ordinary. We do expect to call home to talk about our ordinary day.
And when someone we always expect to be there is no longer there, then what? Tomorrow when I wake up, brush my teeth, get dressed, and make my way to work, I'm looking forward to passing by the woman handing out newspapers proclaiming "Happy Thursday."