On Grief and Grieving- August 2026

August 1, 2026

A Morning That Defied the Forecast

The day began much earlier than usual, with me awake and moving about by 4:30 AM. The weather forecast called for nothing more than a cloudy, overcast day, so I wasn't expecting much in the way of a sunrise. Yet, as I stood inside near the kitchen counter watching through the patio doors, I noticed subtle hints of color beginning to develop around 5:30 AM.

Within only a few minutes, the eastern sky transformed into a breathtaking display of soft pinks, corals, and salmon-colored clouds stretching across the horizon. The entire event lasted no more than three minutes before gradually fading back into the gray overcast that had been forecast all along.

By 6:30 AM, anyone stepping outside for the first time would have never guessed such a spectacular sunrise had taken place.

Current conditions at 6:23 AM were 64°F, 89% humidity, with a light 2 mph southeast breeze.

The briefness of the display served as another reminder that some of nature's most beautiful moments are also the most fleeting.

Morning Thoughts Before the Coffee

Interestingly, I hadn't even made my way onto the deck yet. Standing in the kitchen, my thoughts drifted toward the Japanese milk bread dough resting patiently in the refrigerator.

Over the past several days, I've accumulated quite a collection of videos demonstrating creative ways to shape decorative breads and pastries. This morning, while reviewing them, I realized I'd created an entirely different problem, not a lack of ideas, but almost too many. Rather than wondering what to make next, I found myself wondering where to begin.

Creative Experiments in the Kitchen

The remainder of the morning became another lesson in bread artistry.

Using the remaining Japanese milk bread dough, I divided it into several portions and experimented with a variety of decorative shaping techniques.

One pastry was layered with cream cheese and strawberry preserves before being rolled, split, and twisted into new forms.

Another experiment explored folding triangular sections into decorative pinwheel-like shapes.

The dough itself performed beautifully. The flavor remained outstanding, and the finished pastries were delicious. However, the decorative appearance fell well short of what I had envisioned.

The biggest lesson learned today was that fillings completely change the behavior of decorative dough. Once cream cheese and fruit preserves are placed between the layers, the dough becomes slippery and difficult to control. Shapes that appear effortless in demonstration videos become much more challenging when soft fillings are involved.

Rather than becoming discouraged, I simply filed another lesson away for future experiments. Every attempt teaches something new, and each one brings me a little closer to achieving the results I'm after.

Morning Wildlife

Between baking sessions, my regular morning companions once again made an appearance.

Several of my little squirrel friends spent much of the morning racing around the large oak tree near the road. They darted up the trunk, back down again, across the road, and then back to the tree, seemingly burning off limitless amounts of energy.

Every so often one would stop beneath the oak, sit upright for only a few seconds while surveying the surroundings, then suddenly explode back into motion as though someone had flipped a switch.

As always, they provided another enjoyable chapter in the continuing "Morning Watch."

A Quiet Saturday Morning on the Deck

By 9:31 AM, I finally settled onto the deck with a fresh cup of coffee.

The brilliant sunrise had become only a memory, but the morning remained exceptionally comfortable. The temperature and humidity combined to create one of those rare mornings where everything simply felt right.

The umbrella stayed folded since there was very little direct sunshine, and because it was Saturday, something else was noticeably absent. the constant construction noise that has become part of my daily soundtrack over the past several weeks.

Without backup alarms, diesel engines, or heavy equipment echoing across the neighborhood, the morning felt wonderfully peaceful.

Sometimes silence is every bit as enjoyable as sunshine.

Afternoon Kitchen Work

The afternoon turned into another productive session in the kitchen.

I roasted six ears of corn, only to discover they were a tremendous disappointment. Rather than the sweet summer corn I had expected, they were tough, starchy, and tasted more like field corn than table corn.

Rather than throwing them away, I decided they would make an excellent feast for my feathered and furry backyard friends.

Nothing goes to waste if I can help it.

I also broke down eight chicken quarters, separating the thighs into individual freezer bags while seasoning and breading the drumsticks before baking them.

The freezer is now stocked with several homemade dinners for the days ahead.

An Unexpected Opportunity to Help

While preparing dinner, I called my niece Stacey to see whether she and Lindsey were still at their mothers house, making preparations for Linda's upcoming memorial service.

When I mentioned I had prepared chicken and planned to make Cajun rice, I asked whether they would enjoy a home-cooked dinner.

She gratefully accepted.

Almost immediately afterward, my daughter and son-in-law unexpectedly stopped by for a visit. Although they declined dinner because of my son-in-law's gluten-free diet, it was nice spending a little time together before they continued on their way.

Around 7:00 PM, I packaged up two pieces of chicken, Cajun rice, and one of my Japanese milk bread pastries before driving over and deliver to my niece Stacey.

I spent a few minutes talking with her, who is understandably carrying a tremendous amount of stress, as preparations continue for her mother's memorial service.

Sometimes delivering a simple homemade meal says more than words ever could.

An All Too Familiar Evening

Returning home, I sat down in my recliner intending only to rest for a few minutes while watching the evening news.

The next thing I knew, it was after 10:00 PM.

Apparently, my "few minutes" had once again turned into several hours.

Now there were still dishes waiting in the sink, tomorrow morning's coffee yet to prepare, and a handful of journal entries still waiting to be written before finally calling it a day.

Reflections

Looking back over the day, a common theme quietly emerged.

Very little unfolded exactly as planned.

The magnificent sunrise disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived.

The decorative pastries didn't resemble the elegant creations I had imagined.

The roasted corn turned out to be nearly inedible.

Yet every disappointment somehow found a purpose.

The sunrise became a treasured memory.

The pastries became another valuable lesson.

The corn became food for wildlife.

The chicken became comfort for family members going through an emotionally difficult time.

Perhaps that's one of life's gentle reminders.

The success of a day isn't determined by how perfectly everything goes according to plan.

Sometimes it's measured by what we choose to do with life's unexpected turns.

As I prepare for another early morning tomorrow, I'm reminded once again that every sunrise, every loaf of bread, every quiet conversation, and every small act of kindness becomes another thread woven into the story of an ordinary life that, when viewed together, is anything but ordinary.

August 2, 2026