This week I am lying in a hammock between two trees. Curled up with a loved one, the sound of the lake waters pushing up the shore lulls me to sleep. I stay awake only long enough to gaze at the stars and dream of the heavens. The bugs are being drawn from my flesh to the light on inside the lake cabin. After a while they do not bother me. Thinking there can't be anything better than this.
This week I am tossing a frisbee around the yard. A few failed attempts and demonstrations before we move on to a new sport. Footballs are bigger, but do not fit in my hand. Next, a baseball. At the completion of an intense game of croquet, we pause briefly for brauts, and then close the screen door to begin a long game of Settlers. How could I love anyone more?
His guitar strumming is in time with the golden sparks dancing up to the sky from the fire pit. The sound of the swing set creaking to the right. Laughter from the neighbor's porch up the hill. A small firework goes off. The singing begins. Thinking nothing is missing from my life.
This week I wander through the woods with a friend. An adventurous hike to nowhere, as I like to say. Been at this school for nearly a year and still find new land to discover. We pull tree branches out of the way and crawl through bushes, mud up to our knees. His parents honk at us from the highway in confusion; we are walking back to campus disgusting and happy. Entirely wanting nothing.
His voice on the phone. Week after week. Holding each other together, we remember his life. We remember our own. "I'm two for two!" he says. We cry together and discuss where we will go from here. Time progresses and the calls are less frequent. The truth is, it's only for a short time.
The sound of rain pitter-pattering on the top of the tent.
Healthy pains after an intense work out.
Spooning on the couch with your dog.
Confidence in a difficult task ahead.
Dancing on top of countertops.
Surrounded by comfortable faces.
Cold ice cream melting into warm brownies.
Where will you be this week?
