I guess I will never know what this day might have been like otherwise, in that fantasy life where the difficult events of the past three years and now past three weeks never happened.
But in this real life, my first day as Pastor of a Church was excellent:
Three visits to parishoners: an elderly woman recently widowed, another woman suddenly in the hospital, and an elderly couple struggling with the husband's long term health problems.
No one seems to mind having a pastor with a major health issue of her own.
I worked on Sunday's sermon, worked on an adult education class, worked on my ordination service, and came close to resolving the health insurance craziness.
And on the way home I stopped to purchase the last few things I need to start staying overnight down in my new place.
I have several appointments over the next few weeks that should bring us closer to answering the immediate medical questions.
But most of all . . . I seem to be a pastor!
It's been exactly two years (I found the blog entry) since, egged on by my best friend at seminary, I purchased the robe pictured above. (And no, I am not remotely blonde.) I've worn the robe many times since then, but in a few weeks I am going to wear it as an ordained Minister of Word and Sacrament. With a stole, or maybe two stoles. As I celebrate Holy Communion.
I think all of that is actually going to happen.