A car crash.
A wave good-bye.
A moment to exhale and feel joy.
A mere second is the action. When my heart skips a beat or my cat meows. It’s the back story to that second that I never seem to recall.
Like the woman who re-ended my car. Backstory: On her cell phone, not paying attention.
Waving good-bye to friends, leaving southern California. Backstory: Anywhere other than here must be better, right? They didn’t just pack up one moment and leave. It took them months (maybe years) to become so disillusioned with the Golden State to decide ‘I’m outta here.’
An unexpected kiss from my husband. Backstory: Frustrated with the on-going ‘drama’ of octogenarian parents. I look up after yet another mind-numbing argument with my father to see my husband leaning over me with words of comfort reminding me that I’ll survive this – somehow, someway.
Standing at the top of the hill. Backstory: I walk up this hill twice every single day. But some days, like this afternoon, with the sky so vibrant I want to spread my arms and absorb its crystal ‘blueness’ and feel the whimsy clouds caresses on my cheek. From where I stand, I can see all the way to the ocean and then to Catalina Island. Truly breathtaking.
And you know what . . . it all happened in a second.