10.12.20
Having just come home from a date and feeling peckish, I stood facing the open fridge, searching.
I heard her voice down the hall. My nineteen year old daughter was playing guitar while singing my eight year old son to sleep.
Strangely and suddenly, I went back in time. I was sixteen and sitting on the shaggy red carpet in my bedroom. It was one of those days I tried to contemplate my future - one of those times I wondered what my life would bring. Usually, those visions were fuzzy. More of a feeling than a picture. But this time, my young self was getting a vivid glimpse of the adult me, standing in front of the fridge, hearing a pretty song carrying through the hallway. It was such a beautiful sound. Wanting to investigate, I follow the song down the hallway and peek into the bedroom. A lovely and grown girl, about my age, is playing guitar. She is familiar, but nothing I could have constructed in my mind. She is singing a song about hope. I am awed by her. Above her in a loft bed lays a sweet boy, safely tucked in. The softest cheek and longest eyelashes peek from the covers. I want to know him and all about the ample collection of sea shells and rocks that rest on a shelf beneath his bed.
Sixteen year old me seeing this is thrilled at what her life had become. She would marvel at the beauty, the goodness. She would think, "Yes. This is exactly what I want. To the last detail." There are other glimpses of the future which would have left young-girl-me utterly terrified. But this one - this was magic.
My refrigerator reverie ended, though I was still facing the wide open fridge with my hand mindlessly gripping the handle. I knew instantly what the vision was, this merciful and strange gift of presence. So, I stood there a bit longer and accepted it. I let it fill me up. Brim full. I said, "Thank You" and closed the fridge.
Then, I took my 43 year old self and followed the beautiful sound down the real hallway of my real life so I could see and wonder at it all again.
