I'm holding on, waiting for your call
it's simple, but I can't explain this ...
Another perfect day
When I tried to talk about Terri to people who did not know her, it never went well. I would talk about her laughter and how her smile lit up a room. I talked about the joy she found in everyday things -giggling with delight at a Ranger Rick lunch box she found at a Salvation army store-that kind of thing. I would show them pictures of the two of us on road trips-two half awake people at rest stops and Arby's and cheap hotels. "You look happy," is all they would say.
I wanted them to see more than that. I wanted them to see how we fit together and how our time together was so incredible that I can remember every little detail. Every day, every meal, every grocery store trip (Look, Magic shell!! Have you ever poured that over ice cubes and licked them off??).
I have photos and stories and small souvenirs. But I have no real evidence that her existence, albiet brief, made my life better and convinced me that everyone's life can be more than day to day-it can be moment to moment. And more than wonderful.