Friday, May 2, 2008

"Count Our Blessings" A Short Story

“Life is Beautiful, Count Our Blessings”

By Mark Stegman

Turning a log over in the black iron stove Sammy swung the iron door closed, shut the air intake valve’s circular knob and stood straight stretching. He felt her presence so close behind him; he felt her eyes watching him, felt her smile soft and sweet. He turned and met her hazel eyes smiling; they passed their love through their locked enchanted stare. Both felt their energy rise inside them like the fire of the woodstove heating the core and soul. He has an image flash of her laying on green grass beside their favorite lake wincing and breathing pushing out their miraculous miracle first born girl. Sammy looks up now past his lover seated on their love seat and sees their shared miracle standing at the base of the stairs looking at him smiling. He pauses a moment to soak up the love of his family, smiles and glides toward his four year old daughter. She laughs at his approach like a dog wagging its tail in expectation of a belly rub. He scoops her up in both arms holding her above his head then rubbing noses he tosses her in the air and catches her cradled in his arms like a newborn. The image of her coming fresh into the world flashes in his head once more and he whispers to himself “thank you”.

“Let’s go count our blessings,” he says cheerily making her giggle with his ecstatic vibration.

“Blessed for mommies, thank you mommy. Goodnight” The girl called over her father’s shoulder. The beautiful women on the couch stood up revealing her slender straight figure and flowing brown hair. She walked up beside the two standing an inch taller than both of them as he held the child at his height she kissed them both on the cheek. “Goodnight sweetheart, may you become aware and enlightened in your dreams?” She whispered meaningfully.

“I am ware mommy,” The girl laughed knowing she is being cute with a hint of truth behind her innocent voice. Her father carried her up the spiraling steps. “Let’s count our blessings sweet one.” The slender tall woman stands over the stove concentrating on the vibrations of her lovers and child’s voice. His sweet calming baritone, her jubilant cherubic laughter filling her ears and mind’s eye, open eyes closed; softly smiling, letting the sounds drift around in her body. Listening to her lover tuck their child in to bed tears fill her eyes, she doesn’t hold them back.

“Let’s count our blessings” he softly and slowly skillfully lowers his voice into calming sleepy tones; the young girl takes her father’s lead.

“Today was a blessing, morning before school with mommy and papa was a blessing, horse ride to school, school, the building with heat, Mrs. Stockenbacher a blessing.” She listed like a praying pro the events of her day, listing slowly to sleep until her last blessing around lunch time came out “n mum n daa at an …. An…..”

Soon after her husband descended the stairs smiling and glowing. He cuddled up with his tall slender wife, her eyes red and watery. She took him into her arms. The fire popped in the woodstove.

It has been a hard day for the young women who had learned that morning of her mother’s expected passing. She had cried shortly and has now cleared up and was breathing normal again.

“You are a genius, or a monk.” She whispered in his ear.

I am the luckiest man alive,” he said as he kissed her.

I mean it baby, counting blessing is a wonderful way to put her to sleep. You can go on forever counting the graces: the people, the good deeds, the earth, the sky, the rock, and the love…” She looked off staring her mind truly seeing the infinity of blessed life.
“Yes, you got it love. Life is a miracle upon miracle, and behind each miracle are a million more miracles. Our daughter, our lives, when forming consists of the successful dividing of billions of cells.” He said this restrained yet obviously excited with the mystery and gratitude of the forming of life. “Every cell dividing as designed; too then divide again, and again, and again. Thousands of kids born everyday perfectly breathing and seeing hearing learning and growing healthy; it’s a miracle to even be born healthy and breathing into a world of miracles. The sun warming us just right and warming the soil to grow seeds that know just when to sprout, grow, die, and become soil for life to grow. Food of all shapes, tastes, and colors growing right from the soil to satisfy our every hunger and nutritional need. Waterfalls from the sky, we’re able to communicate, relate, love, and procreate, share stories, and dream and laugh. We drive, fly, climb, learn, dig, grow, and experience; every second is a miraculous blessing. One actually can’t stop naming the miracles once they start to count their blessings.”

“But then we die”. She whispered quietly.

“Yes, and that could be the most important part, the greatest blessing of them all. If nothing died everything would stick together, atom bonded to atom, forever unchanging solid, never releasing, never learning and experiencing; only knowing its one first attachment. In truth, nothing would be if there wasn’t death and decomposition.” He said quietly.

The nutrients of all life are formed from the break down and changing of matter. The circle of life is a blessing. What if a mood never died and we are stuck sad forever? How are we to know if death is not the greatest blessing, to let us rest, return to light, move onto something new?”

It could possibly be the Buddha’s chance to break the gravity of life and reach nirvana of timeless consciousness...”

“It still sucks” she said still getting used to the permanence of her departed mother.

“Yes, to miss someone hurts, but to know someone is miraculous, even for a year, or ten, or a day. To be in the same place in space at the same moment is not a coincidence but a purpose filled learning experience that enhances our lives. It’s truly a blessing and a miracle to know another person at all. To even live for one breath is to experience life and smile. How many miracles have occurred for her, and all of us, to live as long as we have? We fly around the Earth, zoom right past each other in cars, and create toxins that kill us, we are lucky to make it a single day with all the infinitesimal miracles happening to allow us to be conscious of it all. It’s amazing we are not all limbless and bruised everyday, every second moving around 8 billion other miracles all on top of a rock flying through “space”.

He watched her, and moved closer to her. She appreciated his views, she said in the past they are the enlightened outlook of a confusing life. Still, he watched her emotional state, it is important to grieve, to hurt, to recognize the loss and the pain is to acknowledge the love and the union that existed between two separate individuals. He has been through more loss than any one either of them knew.

“Death and birth are of the same fabric, the same veil. Who knows if there is a coming or a going and which is which? It’s possible that death sets are souls free from this gravitational force that we were sucked into when we were born. Some people whom believe in reincarnation believe we choose the life we are to live before we are born into it, that we actually choose a life that’s tragic or hard because we need the lessons of that life to fulfill a reincarnated learning of progression.

“Life is beautiful; we could not have life, birth without dying. In a Pythagorean situation we could then say that death is beautiful. It fulfills our lives and completes us, motivates us and brings it all together while providing for future life to sprout from our ashes and ideas. The fact that everything dies forces us to cherish the moment, watch the flowers and children bloom, and smile in the infinite blessings of life.”

“Life is beautiful.” She whispered. She moved over taking over her husband. That night the two beings created a new being, born in the belly of the tall slender women with the beautiful deep hazel eyes.

Mark Stegman

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