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In my life there are moments in time, where ive stopped what I was doing, where I was walking, and took in everything that was around me. Sometimes I cant even recognize im doing it until I look back years later, and remember the time where it happened upon me.
For instance, in the fall time, the day before the wind turns another direction, though its breezy, you notice its still warm outside, as the leaves dancing around you kick up a crisp winter smell, its still sunny and 60 degrees outside.
Ive had moments I can replay in my mind where everything just happened so perfectly, you would have thought re-watching my visualization that it was scripted, as to how it all came together so beautifully.
Memories that are so vivid, I can re-live them every time they pass through my mind as if it were happening all over again for the first time.
The sound off a bat, or how it hits the leather of the back of a glove. You can hear it leaving the ballpark without looking at it. You can hear the exact speed of the pitch once it hits the glove. Sometimes before it.
My daughter, when she laughs, its infectious, you cant help but laugh as well, just looking at her knowing how pure and innocent everything is. Or when she isnt laughing, but just laying there, asleep in my arms, as I rock her back and forth, knowing shes warm and at peace.
Those few mornings I can remember at my grandparents house as a child. The dew on the morning grass, as the sun was rising, it was a little cold outside, but I can still remember walking to the left of that old house under some old pine trees, where an old rusted swing set sat, and how those chains on those swings did all they could to keep my brothers and I from falling as we took turns on the one swing that was still able to be used. How gripping those chains felt, how the old pine needles laid across the ground covering up everything around them. My grandmothers kitchen, the sun beaming in from the windows in their dining room.
Morning Coffee with my dad when I was 14. . . that entire summer.
The first time my wife showed me what a peaceful moonlit sky looks like through her eyes, out in the middle of a hay field. Though we were surrounded by darkness in every direction, that moon covered us in light.
How her eyes look a little different when she looks at our daughter. The first time I met her, and how she looked when she smiled at me. Her grace, and how it outshines everything.
I cant remember how old I was, though I can remember the sound of the keys being played on an old beat up piano. From some distance, across a street, maybe through a big window pane, maybe it was on television, all i can remember was just being frozen, looking in the direction of the sound, wondering what it was, if sound had a color, I at that moment saw every one of them. And then I sat down in front of one, placed my fingers on those keys, and somehow my brain knew exactly what to do to make those sounds come to life.
Misguided potential, the imaginary (what if's) before chaos took over. The (what i had hoped and could have beens) those dreams that sometimes sit on top of my thoughts as I drift asleep.
The way I loved them then. . .
Walking on Southwick Beach, on Lake Ontario, any clear morning I was lucky enough to be there, feeling that breeze, smelling everyones morning camp fires, sitting in peace, enjoying it all, taking it all in.
Chloe, my once in a lifetime great dane that was so perfect in every single way a dog could be, as a companion, a family member and a friend, who she was, to the very end.
Solace and peace, sharing a soul with someone that I feel I have lived a thousand lifetimes with before.
These are the memories that I want to take with me, when it's my time to go.
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