These daily stories began nine years ago this month. That was before I had much of an idea of what they would become. At first I played around with short quotes, or pithy phrases interspersed with longer vignettes. When I revisit those early ones, I find there were some duds. In that they do not spark much interest for me now. 

 

But after awhile I found my rhythm. Early on someone commented that he thought they were emerging into something of value, and those few words gave me cause to keep going. It has been important to me to be consistent, which has fueled my determination. The dishes may be stacked in the sink, the clean clothes might be rumpled in the basket, but every day a "moat" goes out. For those who do not know why I chose such an enigmatic name, it is because of Benjamin. He was fond of them in his tweens, and imagined bad guys being dunked as they tried to scale the castle walls. My hope is to offer that kind of protection to these precious relationships we call ours. 

 

If I were embarking on a new project this week, and felt inclined to look to my son for a title, it would involve riddles. Benjamin has a stack of books beside his chair, packed with jokes, and puns. For someone on the spectrum his sense of humor is in top form. He enjoys plays on words, and homophones. 

 

"Rowed is a homophone," he reminded me. "The past tense of row, and a path for cars."

 

"That's right Benjamin." 

 

Looking for meaning in the small interactions that appear on my journey each day has been a way to articulate gratitude. Wonder. Self reflection.

 

Plus it keeps me rowing.