I sit with my family, and we talk about things. I make myself comfortable on a narrow slab of the windowsill in the old house I grew up in. I remember sitting in the exact spot for much of my childhood. Almost a decade later, I find I can still fit on it; if not, a little discomfort is nothing when you’re happy. But this is not about me; I look ahead. There are faces, some old and some very new. I sit there and watch the next hour unfold as the conversation continues about all sorts of peculiar oddities. In many ways, this is what I live for, I think to myself. In fact, barring a few singular pleasures, this is all I live for. There is tea, and we have some things to eat. The new baby has learned to chuckle. But like all people, young and old, there is a time and mood to his shenanigans. And we wait ardently for the right time. What else is there?
In many ways, I know this moment is mine, despite arriving in the middle of a crisis. Life has a habit of squeezing joy over most pain and stress. On the pot of boiling pressure, this moment is a welcome garnish. Everything I’ve ever wanted and received, and everything I have ever craved and been denied, has led me here. In these days of fortune and folly, of grace and melancholy, the meaning of why we do whatever we do creeps up on me, and I get startled for a second. But then, I sit there, on the dark slab right below the old window. I sit there, and I look ahead at the history of us, and I sit there and get a glimpse into the future of us. And as averse to superstition and all things magical as I am, I sit quietly and make a wish. Of course, I avoid talking about it and quickly click a picture. You often don’t forget moments like these, but a picture, as always, is a reliable contingency.
There it is, I think as I look at the blurry mess captured hastily. There is my moment. Something tells me this is a crucial time in my life, and we have a habit of missing these, and even if we wanted to catch them, we rarely know when we’re in them, but I see it. I’ve seen it just in time. No matter what happens now, I’ve seen it, even if it were to fade away as all things eventually do.