Right

I'm at my parents house. It took us what seemed like forever to get here. As I sit in their living room typing my Dad is asleep in the over stuffed chair (the one that was displaced from my apartment when my daughter came along). I stop now and then to listen to my Dad's usually rhythmic breathing and smile. I can also hear Richard and Peter playing with our little girl as my mom flits about doing this and that. It is wonderful. I am blessed. Too often I forget just how blessed I am. I wanted to write this to remind myself when those moment of forgetfulness come along. I guess to you, Reader, I am saying, count your blessings, there are probably more than you might think.