thursday. hey, good morning. he smiled and recited the address as if he’d always lived there. only it wasn’t his home or mine - it was my work address. it’s a dance, our dance. his foot hit the gas, i found my place on the right side, bag to my left, phone in hand. ready. so, how are you?  good, miss maura - almost friday. a relieved smile. indeed. he knows that i prefer the river route even though there’s more traffic. he doesn’t mind, not like he used to. i’ve caught him smiling in the rearview mirror taking pictures, always taking pictures, you love the river. i do, it’s home. the last few blocks are always silent and if the sun is out -  it’s blinding. i like to think we’re taking a moment of silence to reflect on the kind of day we want to have. at least that’s what i do.

i’ve been thinking about the importance (is it?) of prayer for the past year or more. what is it, how to do it, why invest the time and energy? is it similar but not the same as mediation. because i can do that. do i have to pray to something or someone. should i do it the same time every day. i tried a few times but it felt awkward. so i stopped. realizing that it should come from within. it should happen because it feels right if not necessary. a craving, a desire, a reflex. deeply personal.

and there it was this morning. a shift. i didn’t want light up my face with the glow of my iphone or hurry to get outside for a run or walk. i wanted to linger and give thanks. it was weird. 100% weird. a fan of weird experiences so i sat there wondering what i would be thankful for. i tried to force a few: i’m thankful for my father, for my dear friends, for my home but nothing resonated. until i took a sip gulp of water. it revealed that i’m grateful for my body as it raced down my throat. without pause: thank you for functioning despite lack of sleep and often times food, morning runs, constant scrutiny, heartache, too many hours in front of a computer. thank you for carrying me through the days, weeks, years. and with that, i made a promise to be more kind. handwritten a neon pink post it: this is the only body you have, be kind.

they were waiting at the back corner table when i arrived. we shared stories about our day while devouring bowls piled high with warm pasta and smiles because of it. grateful for a. and uncle d. good night.