Good Things

6:41 AM

 I like good things, even if they come in small increments.
I like extra whip cream and ten more minutes of daylight. I like walking one more block while eating a blue popsicle that threatens to melt over my fingers and stain my lips. I like reading just one more paragraph before I fall asleep. I like sleeping five minutes late. I like finding a good book at a garage sale for ten cents. I like having a cocktail on the deck when the air is balmy. I like small good things because the good part makes it a big thing.



Yes, right here. One of those small great things. Yums!


I like adventures with Ryan. I like meaningless drives that end up with us literally walking into the sunset while grasping for each other's hands. We wound up at a cheap Chinese buffet yesterday evening while the sun was still high in the sky. We were hungry and as much as I was hungry to spend time with him, I was more hungry for food. We hardly spoke until our silverware clattered on the table and we leaned back, content with all the MSG and soy sauce we could handle.


"Where to-boogaloo," I asked. We had an entire evening, a car filled with gas and lo mein filled guts to walk off. We were fully prepared for an adventure. "Let's go to the river walk," he answered. I fished my camera out of my purse and off we went.



The river walk is, well, just that. A paved trail on the river. We set off, joined by speeding bikers, huffing joggers and kids looking for trouble. Let me give you a quick run down:


Snakes that fall from bridges. Pidgeons that poop without looking who is walking below in their line of fire. Giant, enormous, human eating spiders that live in webs in a bridge over the river. With water front property like that, I believe they are the millionaires of the arachnid world. The older couple indulging in something illegal while they cuddled on a park bench just off the trail. Either unaware, too high or not concerned that we can smell exactly what is in that hand-rolled "cigarette." Ducks, rumored cranes, and hoping we see another bear. We found a mattress floating in the river. We walked along the railroad tracks like an old movie. When we were done, we went for a coke-- again, just like an old movie.





I didn't wear lipstick and we both smelled like salty chinese food. Everything about our adventure was comfortable, especially the way I pulled Ryan's hand and gabbed his ears off. And the way he responds perfectly when I am  momentarily silent. And the way he doesn't care that I talk a lot. The way our life is so calm and right together.



The man shows no shame in giving me his best rabbit face.


I know a girl who is young. Not old enough to enjoy a margarita on a hot day kind of young and you know, when young people are hurt by their counterparts in their first forays into adult relationships, they routinely suggest that love cannot exist. Recently she has taken this stance. "Promises are for fools," she said. I was sad, because, well, promises aren't for fools. Love is real and it is magical and it is rare but when I look into Ryan's face and think about all the years that have passed between us, I cannot fathom for a moment that love is not real. I too am young. I get to drink a margarita in public, but I am still young enough that some of you might roll your eyes when I suggest that I know a thing or two about relationships. That's okay, but here is what I think: there is a second just waiting for you. That second could be tomorrow or Tuesday or ten years from now, but when you stumble into that second, your life will be changed. You will meet the man who makes you wonder why you worried so hard about any of the boys before him. You will be different and you won't know immediately, but that second will have changed you immeasurably.


When we got home, Ryan and I laid in bed and watched bad American Idol auditions, laughing until we couldn't breathe. It was one o'clock int the morning before we finally called it a night. Our puppies were piled around us and after we turned off the light, I listened to the sounds of everyone breathing around me. I guess I knew right then, as I have known many times before, that I have passed through my second. It happened nearly a half decade ago when the friend of a friend said "hello" to me on an unseasonably warm September evening. That friend of a friend turned into my bestfriend and at the very same time, we fell into our second. I guess that's fate, if you believe in that.


And you know what? I guess that one of those prime examples of when a small good thing turns itself into a huge good thing.



He literally just doesn't understand that thing about smiling for the camera. Really.



And if you still don't believe in love, check out these kids. This pair of lovebirds met as children, fell in love as teenagers and will, in October, celebrate 56 years of marriage. He still worships the ground she walks on and insists that she's as beautiful today as when he married her. Now tell me again that promises are for fools.





I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow --My Opa.






P.S. As much as I'm in love with the appearance of this blog, I feel like the scrolling pictures at the top as an entry way to my actual blogs might be confusing. I am considering making this into a more traditional blog where the most recent blog appears at the top of the page in full view. Any thoughts?

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1 comments

  1. What can I say, this is truly written from the heart, well done.

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