Went to church on Father’s Day, then met Chrystelle who returned to her apartment to pick up some clothes.

She won’t live there again for some time. A long time. Maybe never.

I guess all of us were getting back to normal today.

Normal—what is that exactly?

Days without tragedy? Where bad things don’t happen to good people?

Not in the world where I live.

No, normal is far from perfect. The world I’ve lived in for the last 60-something years has had good days and bad. But the good have far outnumbered the bad.

The challenge seems to be embracing the good while, somehow, with God’s help, muddling through the bad.

This week I intend to do both.