(unremarkable)

Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life.

Today, February 28th, was a Sunday, and such a day as this.

I woke up to see a freshly fallen carpet of snow coating the earth outside. Bonnie and I drove to across the river to visit and RP church that we had never been before. We sang psalms and wrote sermon notes in our matching spiral bound journals.

We ate lunch in the dining hall amid the hubbub of Sunday schooled students. Sunday meals are always better than the other six days of the week, but they are never quite good.

We returned to our apartment. I wrote letters. We drank tea. Boys came over and the USA/ Canada hockey game was watched in our living room. Blaring sound and baritone yells drowned out the silence of our normally quiet Sunday afternoon room.

One large pepperoni pizza, a box of chocolate mint cookies and several hours later, Canada had won the gold medal. The crescendo that had so overwhelmed us, had died down...and our room was quiet and calm once again.

People don't realize this, but companionship is underrated.

The people you spend the most unremarkable and least noteworthy days with, are actually the ones you make the most memories with. And the days that you would forget, did you not write them down, must somehow impact the course of your life. Even if it merely means appreciating what you have.

For no apparent reason...whatsoever.