Every Day is Sunday

He stepped out today in his very best pressed plaid outfit, and added a nice big floppy vacation hat and sunglasses. Ready to go, he slipped behind the wheel to take his lady out for the day. Cruising along carefully with both hands upon the wheel, he steers the yacht with an acute eye in front of him going 25 MPH in a 45 MPH zone on the blacktop – holding me up. As I pull up beside Gramps at the stoplight he looks over, smiles, waives and tips his floppy hat my way. I return his smile and offer a waive of appreciation because he reminds me to slow down and enjoy the journey to the next destination.


I arrived safely to said destination to discover I locked myself out of the house so while I wait for help, I reflect on my drive and the old man who made me smile, and write some from my phone.


5 responses to “Every Day is Sunday

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