Writing in glimpses.
And when I was sitting at a dinner table
surrounded with family,
and we were holding our sides
we were laughing so hard,
and it was eyes closed and smiling
and leaning over the edge of our seats laughing,
it was then that I knew.
I was finally happy.
I was finally new.
I’d like to memorize this moment–
how they all were woven together
beneath the twinkling stars.
Their shiny black hair reflected the setting sun,
and their smiles were happy,
springing from deep within– so much contentment,
and so much underlying it.
I can recall the red dress I was wearing,
and the weight I was carrying to be reminded
that I had to leave them in the morning.
But I didn’t need to sulk in that sadness.
I only needed to memorize the moment,
to preserve the more important feeling of
how they each reminded me of what mattered:
I had to get on that plane tomorrow
and finish what I needed to do,
and come back home to them
for the next time, indefinitely true.
There is purpose to these moments we know
we’ll look back on. When we’re living in them,
thinking, I’m going to miss this.
I’m going to remember this.
These are the defining moments
that highlight our meaning,
our life course, and our purpose.
There is so much more to care about beyond ourselves,
more than what is contained within our skin.
These moments tell us what it is.
