TODAY

He marched up to my window, shot me a big-brown-eyed look of something or other, then ran off to the withered gray garden. 

Buck. 

His antlers are crazy handsome.

Startlingly bold, he is trespassing. In my space.

Reminding me that the gardens which delighted and fed us -spring, summer and fall - need to be tilled and tucked away.

Today.

The leaves that have ditched tree for grass need to be gathered and mulched; piled protectively over bushes that will shutter their greens and blossoms till spring. The fencing that borders the vegetable garden - keeping Reggie the Hedgehog, Br'er Rabbits, Mr. Fox, and Buck's buddies at bay -  must be relocated; wrapped around the house to keep Reggie the Hedgehog, Br'er rabbits, Mr. Fox, and Buck's buddies at bay.

Today.

C'mon girl," Buck challenges. "Get moving. Get ready."

Driveway reflectors must be staked in grass. Bicycles, beach umbrellas, and rocking chairs must be transported from garage to basement and shed. Storm windows must replace screens.

"Prepare," Buck warns. "Get ready."

Today.

I am generally speaking, dear Reader, not a Preparer. I am more of a Triager - assigner of  degrees of urgencies in the Emergency Room of Life.

Truth is, Life beat the Preparer out of me. Because no matter how much I practiced and prepared, it was bigger and stronger than I. It was merciless.

I'm at the plate. Waiting for a fastball. Curveball is launched.

At my head. 

I'm prepped for the curveball. Knuckleball arrives.

With his bat.

(Yes, I know a baseball cannot carry a bat. But if Baseball is life - as my three boys have argued for years - then the least it can do is fit into my analogies.)  

These past few weeks, Life has beaten the life out of a whole lot of us.

A super storm snatches lives, homes, businesses, and livelihoods.  

An election splinters and shakes the foundations of a citizenry.

Hope is battered and snuffed.

Then, Today arrives. Warm and calm. A crazy handsome bold buck peers into my window, reminding, "There's work to do. Get up. Get moving. Prepare."

He is not suggesting that I prepare for unknowable and unexpected Life.

He is reminding me to Prepare to Endure.

A long winter.

A lost harvest.

A nation at odds.

A fractured relationship.

A debilitating illness.

A dream unaccomplished.

I know this, because just last night, I listened to a farmer recount the concerns and challenges brought on by a spring that fluctuated from too warm to bitter cold, and a summer plagued by drought. I listened to friends who were burdened with relationship troubles, caretaker troubles, employment challenges, and cynicism about a country so desperate for compromise and vision. 

Our conversations centered on enduring. Rather than retreating.

They focused on Today. Rather than yesterday and tomorrow.

These difficult, inspiring, and hopeful conversations shouted at me, "Hey! Don't forget! We're all in this together!" They made me realize that in too many seasons of my adult life, I've hunkered down like a seaside home - boarded up against elements that may or may not destroy. I've long prepared, then waited, for wind and rain and doom.

In preparing for Life, I piled sandbags over the entrances to my spirit, and hammered planks over the windows to my soul. Barricaded against storm, I dismissed light. I dismissed friend.

But one cannot endure life unless light pours in. Unless family, friend and stranger are welcomed - to assist, advise, inspire.

So Today. I will prepare gardens, driveways, garages and windows.

And I will prepare to endure Life. And whatever curveballs, knuckleballs or fastballs come my way.

It will be quite freeing to swap The Triager for The Preparer.

The Preparer who understands that 'Today' will surely come. 

Light will pour in - if I let it.

Life might not have my back, but the people I am so blessed to share life with surely do.


QUING Hereby Decrees:  The Buck stopped here and hereby decreed, "Prepare to Endure."