A glance back before the changing of the guard at midnight

“Today’s homework assignment: In one hundred and fifty words or less, describe one of the happiest days of your life.”*

I’m a rich person to have a kind of option paralysis in the face of this assignment. It’s a day I’ve written of before, but it stands out in memory.

*   *   *

A day in deep winter, about two years ago. I recall only that the evening found me at the home of close friends. Dinner cooked by Adam with me assisting. Wine. A small gathering, we talked and enjoyed one another’s company.

Sometime after Midnight, I headed out into the cold. A walk of two and a half miles to get back to my home in the South Slope. Headphones delivering music and I  barely felt the cold.

The day itself wasn’t one of the happiest of my life in a noticeable way, as it was happening. But in the midst of that walk an overwhelming sense of joy hit me like a wall of glitter. Felt like everything had healed all at once and I was the happiest person I knew. So I felt like the luckiest person, too, but “luck is a residual of preparation†,” and don’t forget it.

*   *   *


† From Oil Notes, by Rick Bass

Edited to add this link. The essay ranges on the sentimental side (#blessed— saccharin), but contains some solid reminders, some truth.

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