Yesterday I told you about Peggy.
About cancer.
Chemotherapy.
And something we didn’t fully appreciate until we needed it: all those ordinary years of taking care of ourselves had given Peggy something to work with when life suddenly got very unordinary.
Today is Monday.
No oncologist.
No dramatic diagnosis.
Probably no life-changing moment before lunch.
Good.
Because these are the days that matter too.
Most Days Are Just Days
That’s easy to forget when you read somebody else’s story.
The big moments get remembered.
The diagnosis.
The comeback.
The day somebody gets off the floor again.
But most of life happens between those moments.
Peggy didn’t spend years preparing for cancer.
She was just living.
Teaching classes.
Moving.
Eating the way that worked for her.
Sleeping.
Laughing.
Dealing with stress sometimes better than others.
Taking care of herself without knowing what might eventually ask something more of her.
That’s what made me think differently about all those ordinary days.
