Yesterday was a truly beautiful day.

Some of it was mother’s day beautiful but much of it was simply lovely spring day beautiful.

Not to say that it didn’t have its less than ideal moments. Because every day does. I felt a bit depressed because of a conversation I’d had with someone the previous day. And I felt the ache of my loved ones who, for so many reasons, find it to be a very difficult day. My heart felt weighty, with aching, deep down, all day.

But I also felt joy, marking another anniversary in my mind for my mother, who just last year on Mother’s Day was recovering from breast cancer surgery and preparing for chemotherapy and radiation. She is now recovered and well.

And so there it is: The see-saw of joy and sadness that life offers when you truly love people.

Thankfully, at our house even the tense moments made way for some humor yesterday. For example: Jeremy reminding the boys that they were to do whatever was necessary so that I could enjoy my special day for one more hour, “before we all go back to abusing her like we do for the rest of the year.” Love that dry wit. Very funny, Mr. Greenhouse.

Undeniably lovely parts of the day:

Sunshine in the midst of a chilly 7-day rain and cloud forecast.

Picking up a new tree (Pagoda Dogwood) for $25 through the Minneapolis Tree Trust.

A homemade bagel and two lattes made by the talented Mr. Greenhouse.

A chat and trading plants with a sweet neighbor friend over the fence. Purple coneflowers and shasta daisies to me, sweet woodruff and turtlehead for her…

Surveying the bounty of a planned herb garden, which we waited to plant because of forecasted frost.

Drawings and coupons and an origami flower bouquet and a tracing of Dylan’s hand with this poem:

This is my hand
My hand will do
A thousand lovely things for you
And you will remember
When I am tall…
That once my hand
Was just this small.

Which, of course, made both of his parents cry.

Fresh guacamole with perfectly ripe avocados.

A new shopping basket for my bike, so that I could jaunt down to Kowalskis for a few supper items. I love the word “jaunt.”

A cleaned out garage.

Walking down to Todd Park to play our first four-person game of Bocce (Dylan is just getting the hang of it.) During the ballerina round Jeremy demonstrated some particularly embarrassing prowess that had the boys in fits of giggles. Note: This was right before the game dissolved into pouting and meltdowns and we had to head home.

An outside fire with hot chocolate and blankets under a clear, dark sky.

Boggle and books and bed.

Very simple pleasures, n’est-ce-pas?

But all well worth celebrating, no matter the day.

In spite of the moments when I feel scared and sad, I know that there’s an abundance of goodness in my life.

And so I acknowledge the goodness and marvel at it and focus on being grateful for the simple joys that made yesterday bountiful.