wistful

Sometimes, at the end of the day, I find myself experiencing a sweet melancholy. An oxymoron you say? Perhaps. Not sadness so much, just a bit of regret about things not done, or things that could have been done better. And memories of tiny things that helped the day to pass positively. Most of the time having to do with the people I interact with in my life.  Was I a good person?  Did I return a smile given, or not even notice?

How many times has the genuine smile and glance of a stranger brightened my day. And made me realize it's the very smallest things that have an impact beyond measure.

A door held, a smile returned, attention paid to girlish daughterly chatter, a wave across the lawn to my elderly neighbor. All things that cost me nothing, but have rewards that linger as the day comes to a soft and dark end.

Maybe my slumber will be peaceful as I recount the goodness received.