|Me, crying on Mt. Rainier|
Four years later my list of successes has grown in reverse proportion to my list of failures and unfinished projects. My belief in “If you can dream it you can do it” has remained the same: a slightly hypocritical piece of advice that I can give to others in a display of “Do as I say and not as I do.” I believe it, but I won’t try to check if it can come true.
But hey, this is a little corner of joy, not a little puddle of pity wallowing. And I do, in fact, have a point with my sad sob story. And it is not going to be a moralistic point, but very very wise. Here goes:
I enjoy the little things in life much more than my big, life-shaking achievements. Making the memory books in kindergarten. I loved that. A short, half mile hike at Coe with the children, the ranger’s wife, and my mother and father in which we saw hundreds of wildflowers. I loved that. My son standing straight with the violin under one arm, listening to the teacher. My daughter’s sweet-smelling breath on my cheek as she hugs me. The smell of morning outside when I wake up. The spaghetti and mushroom sauce Dar made for us on our last camping trip. Hearing my friend Ronit’s melodious voice on the phone this morning. Illustrating the Siddur Program for the school. A hug. A kiss.
Little moments of life, seemingly fleeting, giving everlasting joy.
What about you? What moments of joy do you remember?