July 19, 2010 2 Comments
The back-story first.
It has been one of those long workdays. Not hard just long. The “I left at 6:60 got home at 8” long. Flew to Minneapolis for a 45 minute meeting to try to sell some work. I have been in a modest funk lately. It seems as if all I do is work and sleep. Only complaining a little. Really. I am reasonably health and employed. That is all good.
On the drive home I decide to stop and pick up food for the cats. I pull into the lot, get out of the car and it happens. Moment I. I look back over my shoulder as I start walking into the store. It is a warm and humid summer night. Something like Cat On A Hot Tin Roof warm and humid. I am in a white long sleeve shirt with my sleeves rolled up and wearing dressy black slacks. Looking young Paul Newman-ish (with emphasis on the ish).
I look back over my shoulder and it hits me that it is 8 at night and still very much light out. The sun has begun to sink but at that moment, I am at the end of my day in the warmth and the sun. The tension of the day, the ordinariness of the day, melts away and for that moment I am blissful.
I am not sure why exactly. After all I am standing on the concrete of a parking lot between the Home Depot and the Petsmart. However, one of my few rules is that when you feel like that don’t over-think it. Say thank you and revel in it.
Even when I left the store ten minutes later things had changed. The light was different. The moment was gone.
I arrive home. My 70-something next door neighbor is sitting on a blanket in his backyard, Sitting, leaning back on his arms. Wearing shorts with his very white 70-something legs showing and two little grandchildren running around him having the time of their lives with Grandpa. Moment II.
I know that this was really his moment. But it was also mine. Something about that Norman Rockwell moment made me smile. Big time.
Now as I write I am serenaded by the crickets –actually they are so loud they sound as if they are about to take over. Let them. I have had my moments.