Gray Monday

I don't have a clue as to why this is a sad day. So I'm just giving over to it to see where it takes me. This is not wallowing, children, it's an exercise of mindful letting go. Could it be because it's Monday? The overcast grayness outside? I've always thought of Monday as a beginnings sort of day, not the, oh, man, not Monday again interpretation. It's just not in my nature to consider one seventh of my life as something to dread. And the overcast grayness just makes the grass and trees look that much more vivid in their greenness by contrast. Newton and Einstein twitch in their silent vigil staring out the patio door at the birds. The rain has enticed them to a banquet in the lawn by bringing tasty morsels of food to the surface. I think I just have Cullen on my brain today. So many times over the last three days reminders of him in my younger son. I was unexpectedly reminded of him in a Facebook post earlier this morning. Further reminding me that because of him there are people in my life that I love so much. Gifts from him that remain even though he is gone. I feel better already. How does this happen? That fluke in my genetic code that predisposes me toward happiness, I expect. This confirms my suspicion that I'm some sort of mutant half Norwegian girl, as they are mostly dour by nature. It turns out that I'm not adopted even though I insisted this was the case as a child. Acceptance without understanding brings understanding. Not immediately, but often sooner than you might think. And I thought this was going to be a pajamas day.