Sunday, February 6, 2011

Wisdom With a Shovel

Today, while I was shoveling snow, I was surprised by our neighbor, Murray. He's a good old guy, a great old guy, in fact, and the things that fall out of his mouth make me smile...not as in dentures and food falling out of his mouth, but words. The words that fall out of his mouth make me smile. He's a smart fella, simple and to the point. Today he asked how Zoey was doing, and I told him that she was sick. I added that it was the first time we've really had any need for concern in two know, just small talk. Murray stood upright, smiled that wide Murray smile, and said, "You can't complain about that, can you? That's about all you can ask." He turned and went back to sweeping the snow from his porch. I thought about what he said, and as always, I smiled. He's right. We're pretty lucky people.

Aside from a few small fevers from teething, and one disconcerting but obviously now in hindsight, harmless one in Brooklyn, we've had nothing but a healthy little girl. She's been sick to her stomach just once in that time, and even that seemed a surprise. She's had maybe two or three colds, including this lingering doozy, but this lingering doozy took out even her parents. The only time she's been to the hospital was to visit her ailing Dad in a Newark, NJ emergency room. There have been surprisingly few rashes and scrapes. Bruises have been mild and even more rare than the rashes. Truth be told, we've got a healthy, strong little girl on our hands, and we are, indeed, lucky.

Before Murray and I both retired the shovels this afternoon and returned inside, Murray added a random thought that must have been bouncing around his head.

"That's a fine little girl," he said, "yes sir, a fine one."

Once again, a smile. Thanks Murray. Right, as always.


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