Of goldfinches and an errant chickadee

My husband took this photograph at the request of my dad, who gets immense pleasure from watching los amarillos, or "the yellow ones," feasting at the fancy feeding station that my husband designed and built at our new home. Sometimes we have counted at least eight goldfinches, male and female, at the feeder, more than we've ever seen together at any other place we've lived.

I feel truly blessed that I can offer my parents these quiet moments of joy, watching the birds, watching Lizzy play with her toys, or having dinner all together at the dining room table. This evening, my parents and I went grocery shopping (something my mom and I end up doing almost every two days because the food in the refrigerator vanishes so quickly), and we met up with a colleague and a former student, all in a matter of minutes.

A few days earlier, my mom and I had met my department chair at the store's dairy aisle, and my dad and I came across two of my closest friends at the check-out lane on Sunday when we went to get his obligatory copy of The New York Times.

Early today, my mom had a battery of tests done between 7:30 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. since she wants to make sure all bases are covered before the two of them even consider returning to their home in Puerto Rico. In the meantime, I'm delighted to have them here and to enjoy that feel of family, especially because my husband so graciously helps out and I can go to work without worries because I know he's in charge when I'm gone.

I know these days, filled with an embarrassment of goldfinches, won't last forever. That's why I'm rejoicing and treasuring and marking the pages of my memories carefully so that the joy doesn't end when todays become yesterdays.