Yesterday was good.
Eight of us around the table in a small alcove, just enough
room to stand up so long as you did so slowly enough to check the decreasing
space between the roof and the top of your head. Enough of a delay from the
previous occupants that a round of drinks was comped. Small things, but
pleasing ones.
If it’s a metaphor you’re after, here’s one. Family and
friends together, breaking bread, talking, doing what people do when they’ve
known each other for a long time but don’t see each other enough. And this
time, the new addition, the one who so far has been a separate thing; known of,
spoken about, but distinct and discrete from the long-termers.
But here she is, sitting by my right hand, trying to be
heard above my brother. Strolling up to another place after the evening broke
into its different parts, talking to the other women and getting on fine.
It’s all worked out beautifully and everything is all of a
piece. So, for as long as it lasts, and I doubt it will last much longer, let’s
just appreciate what we have and enjoy every second of it.
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