Tuesday, 9.30.25 // I woke up without my alarm—at 5:15 a.m.—on a day off. 🤦🏻♀️ So I moved slowly into the morning, waiting for news on my car and leaning into what was easy and good: episodes of The West Wing, strawberries, an organized fridge and pantry, and the small miracle of a tiny (sugar-free) apple pie.
Then the call came: my car was ready, earlier than expected. Hooray!
Everyone at the garage was so kind. They walked me through what was fixed, added an oil change, even offered bubbly water.
As the tech walked me to my car, we spotted a penny on the ground, heads up. Some say it’s a sign of good luck. Others believe it’s a message from a loved one or guardian angel, a quiet assurance that you’re not alone.
I happen to believe both.
We argued over who should keep the penny. He insisted it was mine; I insisted it should be his. In the end, I picked it up, the boys in the garage cheered, and I handed it over. Good luck, like kindness and love, is meant to be shared.
Later, I lit the fall candles and curled up with the pets while someone in the complex played the piano. After a couple of hard days, it was the gentlest ending.
I’m grateful the hamster car is home.
I’m grateful for the kind team and for sharing the penny.
I’m grateful for help when I needed it, and for notes from friends.
I’m grateful Spencer made it safely to his new home in NYC and for the photos he sends.
I’m grateful for time to cook (it was pasta and roasted tomatoes, but still…).
I’m grateful for cooler weather, for Gidget and Bugg snuggles, for neighbors’ dogs, and for Pow taking over the sofa.
Pennies, pets, pasta, and piano music—proof that comfort is everywhere if I pause to notice.
So grateful for signs, for kindness, and for the reminder that I’m not moving through any of this alone. 🩵
