One of the little joys in life is walking to my car each day where I see the cool blue-green of the swimming pool just a stone’s throw away. Its color, the ripple along the surface, never fail to produce a smile, if only inwardly, as I head out to the day that awaits. As of late, I’ve grown increasingly perturbed with the pool rules that cause the gates to be locked far too early in the evening. For, night swimming is surely one of the best ways to clear one’s mind, to find clarity on such matters needing clarifying. I miss it. Several years ago, my mom lived in a place where the pool was open until 11 pm. Out there, floating along, my eyes would adjust to the dark and the night sky seemingly sprang to life as more and more stars came into focus. With my ears submerged, the calm of the muffled world above- that of distant cars passing by, the occasional frog croaking and the lapping of water up against the tile walls- seeped into the corners of my mind, quieting the stresses of the week. Lying there on the surface, the whole world would slow allowing me to catch up. Answers to concerns seemed to float up from the depths like fish for the catching and I’d be left marveling at the synergy to be found all around.
One evening, a friend called up asking if I’d like to come over and join her family for some fish stew. Fish stew? Um, ew. I then said as much to which she laughed and embellished on the offer. “Fish stew” was actually halibut chowder expertly prepared by her husband. The best!
One of the best feelings ever … I so love when someone comes up to hug me from behind or to put their hand(s) over my eyes. Having no idea who it is for a brief moment, it just feels warm, like love.
While creating paper butterflies with Sam, my 4-year-old little friend, I managed to miss the paper by a smidge with the scissors and instead gouged the tip of my index finger. Blood began to spill out and with Sam’s mom being a nurse, she’s especially keen on fixing “boo-boos,” as she calls them (Sam, not her mom). Upstairs we went to fetch a bandage, a Disney Princess bandage. Sam proceeded to unwrap the wrapping and in pulling the tabs off the adhesive, she mangled the bandage a bit. Nevertheless, she took great care in placing it upon my finger, a look of relief replacing her fretted brow only after she saw that I was properly attended to and was again smiling. That mangled bandage right there, that’s love.
Standing in the shower, the water began to rain down, covering my head. I looked down as it divided into many a little rivulet streaming down my skin. At my shoulders, the addition of the color red mingled in. My heart quickened, anxiety rose, a feeling of panic threatened to attack. Looking down, my feet were encircled in a pool of bright red. Red droplets splayed out along the shower curtain, there’s red all over, red everywhere. I was simply dying my hair a deep burgundy. Who woulda known the process to rinse it all out would cause a mild blood bath slasher-flick style?
To be known inside and out. Words can’t describe the gratitude felt in the recent realization that I possess something longed for, for years. People in my life who’ve seen my foolishness and mistakes, past spitefulness, failings and shortcomings, and still somehow manage to find and see good in me, to love, support and continually root for me time after time. It’s not one of the little joys in life. It’s a big one. ♦