My happy place.

And, just like that it is summer.

John has taken the lid off the pool. Hopefully the weather will begin cooperating and I can spend some time in my bucket.I am so grateful that John spends a lot of his time making our yard and pool nice, so that I can float around and do nothing.

As long as I can remember I wanted a swimming pool. When we moved to this house seventeen years ago, it became a reality. Now, did John want a pool? Um, probably not. He did see how much the kids and I wanted one and he was a good sport. He is always a good sport.

Summer is my time of year. Weather permitting, I am always in the backyard. I float, pray, read, listen to music, dream, and did I mention pray? I feel closest to God when I am in that bucket, looking up to the sky.

It was in that bucket that I began picking up the pieces of my broken heart after Joe died. My tears were mixed with the chlorine water as I tried to make sense of the senseless. Oddly, I found peace and acceptance that summer inside that pool. Some of my fondest memories are of watching my kids grow up in the backyard.

There were always kids, and lots of them, in that pool. I loved it. Even today I love when the neighborhood kids are laughing and splashing around in the bucket.

It’s not fancy. I recently saw a show about extreme pools and they were beautiful. That’s not my pool. It is simple. It is just 13,000 gallons of water in a bucket, but boy, does it make me happy. Most of the time I float alone, and I am okay with that. I listen to the birds, music and my soul. I listen to God. It is my sacred, happy place.

Happy Saturday.






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