Yesterday was one of those special days that can’t be planned. Well, I suppose it could be planned, but the logistics of arranging such a day and making it all come out to perfection would take more energy than I have. Besides, part of the perfection was the unexpectedness, the way everything that happened coalesced into something special.
When I was outside watering my lawn, a neighbor stopped by to visit. We chatted a bit, then I asked him if he was still strong enough to wield a hammer. (Maybe not a tactful question, but it’s something I am aware of, both for myself and other not-young folk.) One corner of my raised garden planter was pulling away from the rest of the boards, and though I tried, I couldn’t hammer a nail through that thick, two-inch board. It turns out that he could do the hammering, but unfortunately, the support post was all but rotten. Anyway, he worked on that planter for quite a while and finally was able to strengthen that corner so the weight of the soil wouldn’t keep pulling it out of whack.
Meantime, to my delight, a friend who I haven’t seen in ages stopped by to visit. She followed me around while I finished my watering and admired my flowers.
By then, the neighbor had finished doing what he could, so the three of us hung out in my gazebo to chat awhile. After he left, my friend stayed a couple of more hours, so we were able to get caught up. Such a joy that was!
After she left, I spoke a bit with a different neighbor. Then later I had a long text conversation with my sister. It was good to get caught up with her, too.
For sure, yesterday was a special day, and it wasn’t just the company after a long stretch of aloneness that made the day a good one, but the people themselves.
Today, I’m back to my normal hermit-y self, but I still am feeling the glow of friendship from yesterday. Maybe the remembrance of the day will make me more conscientious about keeping up with friendships, but who knows. Sometimes overcoming the inertia of aloneness to make plans seems insurmountable, which makes yesterday’s gift of companionship even more special.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One
Bertram's Blog 
April 17, 2026 at 8:13 am
Sounds like a delightful day. Say, perhaps you can tell me if lilacs do well here in CO?
April 17, 2026 at 9:12 am
Lilacs love Colorado!! I don’t know about in the mountains, but everywhere else they thrive. I had lilacs in Denver, on the western slope, and now out here on the plains.