For as long as I have been aware of the power of a good film score, I have secretly wished that I lived my life to a soundtrack. Think about the possibilities! On the comic side, a few french horns and any basic, mundane task has become an epic battle between good and evil. On the serious side, having a life soundtrack allows me to communicate exactly what I'm feeling without having to use words at all.
Recently, I was thinking about I wished my life had a few more of those magical moments that film scores make possible. You know, the ones that are a little bit poignant, but not yet sad? Kind of like a less cheesy version of a good Hallmark commercial? The ones where people realize how deeply they are loved and that they can in fact, accomplish whatever monumental task is in front of them? Yep, those moments. The funny thing is that I spend a lot of time trying to create those moments for other people, whether that's through cards or cookies or a clean house or a hug or a speech. You would think that this would make me more aware of when they're happening in my own life, but I think I'm so well-media-trained that I've lost the ability to recognize them in my own life without the music. But this past month or so, a few of these moments have snuck up on me (snuck upon me? what's the proper usage here?), and I've been meaning to bear witness to them for a while now.
A few weeks ago, I was camping with some of my dearest friends, and as we're sitting around a campfire, talking about life, I realize that they think about my future and dream about my life just like I do. They've actually spent time thinking about the kind of man I should probably marry and are just as surprised as I am at the path the last few years have taken. At an age where I feel more alone than I have in my entire life, simply because my age no longer dictates life patterns, it was beautiful to realize that although I am walking an individual path different from that of my friends, I am not walking it alone.
At the beginning of August, I moved from Spokane back to Tualatin, leaving behind a wonderful family that pretty much adopted me for the last 14 months. I miss them every day- the rhythms of their lives together, the funny stories from a family full of educators, the daily growth of a sweet grandbaby, the love and laughter of a family knit together by long years of faith and joy and sorrow and life. I also miss the chicken pot pie and lemon bars. But mostly, I miss the safe feeling they create with their homes and the ways they generously extend that to anyone who comes across their path. At the beginning of September, I celebrated a birthday, and the day before I turned 25, I found a big manilla envelope in the mailbox from Bekki. Assuming it was forwarded mail, I didn't think much of it, but as I opened the envelope, I found no less than eight separate birthday cards! Bekki had collected cards from everyone in the family and put them together in a gift that did more to encourage me than she could ever know.
What beautiful moments! I may not have done them justice with my writing today, but if I had the option of adding audio to this blog, I think you would get the picture just fine, and you would know that my life is every bit as sweeping and beautiful and poignant and hopeful as I could ever hope it to be. Sometimes you just have to listen a bit closer.
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