Butter

On any given day, if I try hard enough, I can think of a lot to be grateful for.

Sunday, it was butter.

I needed a cube in the morning and the thought crossed my mind to just keep the rest of the box out.  I usually make cookies, but I had planned on making a cake, so I thought it was weird I would think that. I just went with it left it out.

When I was young my mother told me a story about a friend of hers who had died.  She said she had this feeling more than once to go see this friend, to call her or do something.  She didn't.  She procrastinated. Then it was too late, the friend died and my mom was left with regret.  She told me to make sure I listen to those promptings, to do something about it and not wait.  She also told me to make sure I tell the people I love that I love them so they will know, and when they are gone I will know I told them.

I'm not perfect at it, but I've tried to remember that advice and it's become more of a 'listen to the prompting when you get it' mantra.

After Sunday dinner, Hub said one of the older men in our ward had broken some ribs and was really hurting. He said he thought maybe some of my chocolate chip cookies might cheer him up.

I make pretty darn good chocolate chip cookies.

I remembered back to the morning and realized how nice it was to have soft butter ready to go.

We made and delivered the cookies and then T talked to him on the phone when he called to say thank you (through gritted teeth as he ate and talked and breathed through his pain.)

It was no big thing, really, but I was really glad I had the thought, so we could get on to doing something nice for someone else.