Our life is full of so many significant moments…

Yet, in the future when we look back we can remember so few.  Often it is the moments of tragedy and mayhem that flood our memories when we scan the history of our lives.

For the majority of us, life is really filled with insignificant moments that make us who we are, the memories that we smile about just before we go to sleep, the situations that we so desperately try to recreate and are often disappointed because they are not the same.

Life after all can only be lived now….  

These insignificant moments are the ‘real’ moments of our lives.

This weekend I had many of those such moments.

My middle daughter and her boyfriend came to visit. I was going through a challenging period of my life and looking forward to the visit, for company, solace and the love that only comes from those few special people in your life – if you are like me that circle is not vast but its depth and loyalty pales the average Facebook friends list into insignificance.

I, suffering from the malaise of my challenges, got out of bed late and wanted company rather than activity when they arrived.  

Midmorning they arrived with the loving greetings and care of children and the insuppressibly exuberance of youth.  ‘Let’s go in the boat’. 

Eat.  We had fritz on toast.  We laughed at the joy of it and the most bread we had all eaten, possibly ever.  (I have the recipe for this delicacy know as ‘The Big Man’s Breakfast’  !!!) 

The boat, it was in our minds and conversations of ‘what to do’ but didn’t yet fill my heart.  ….. But it hasn’t been out for months, it was filthy, it has been just sitting around, there was a lot of preparation; it was a task. The excuses I had were overcome by a decision to give and all I had to do was move.  

The momentum of youth caught me and spirited me along.  This spirit was not one of doing tasks, but, in enjoying tasks.  The mundane was each a small victory.  The tragic, became funny.   The perfectionism of age became the call of ‘she’ll be right’ and we’ll see what happens.

We laughed and revelled in those disasters that never happened – we laughed at ourselves – we celebrated as a team playing in a game that had no winners, because we were doing it for fun.

We were in the water and everybody seemed to do the stuff that mattered – and a lot of it didn’t matter, but it was done anyway. There were no fanfares, cheering of impressed crowds, the smashing of a Champaign bottle on the bow – there was just the moment, then the next, then the next.  We weren’t there for a crowd but for the moment of seeing what would happen next and going with it.

The water was like glass.  The beer was cold – okay it was a bit early, but it was still cold. We waved at others – and most waved back.  One even danced with his shirt off and a belly bouncing and was rewarded with a dance mirrored from the back of the boat.

We looked at beautiful scenery that may be just ‘the bush’ unless you look with an eye of ‘we are lucky.’

We laughed.  We waved some more and we saw boat races that surprised us and dogs sitting on boats. We laughed at our attempts at emulating the titanic at the stern… and sometimes just weaved in the water a bit because it felt a little bit exciting, not to scary, but just fun at the most basic level.

We broke down and we told stories of breaking down. We were in a boat owned by a ‘doomsday prepper’ and there were spare parts and tools.  Fixing it was almost as surprising and enjoyable as actually breaking down.  We took off again with cheers of success and knowing that even failure would have provided the same pleasure – although it may have been a bit more hassle, we would have had a better story, the continuation was just another moment of celebration.

We met the lock master – all of who are pleasant and fun and skilled. We lamented the boating skills of the novice of which we were in that league. We laughed and chatted of river locks and the science of them which we chuckled about in trying to understand.

We ventured into the ‘secret’ part of the river, where there are channel markers and the depth sounder beeps all the time for the shallow water. We weaved and wondered and discovered like the original river pilots.

We forgot our boat laws but wore our life jackets.

We stopped at one of the many beautiful sand bars… for no reason than to stop.  We swam. The water was chilly and the river shrimps were biting which made it all the more fun.  The reluctant swimmer swam and we laughed with jocks and bras and waved to the bewildered boats passing.

… and sometimes in moments where we didn’t laugh, or speak, we just loved the moment.

On the river trip home we had new experiences, new captains and waved.  We were patient in landing at let the family lauch first.  It all went well and soon the moment of insignificance became a wonder. 

A wonder of joy.

A wonder of nature.

A wonder of bush mechanic repairs.

A wonder of fun for fun sake.

A wonder of a moment where I knew why I existed.

A moment forever.

…and we were home and filled with our trip, kept some momentum, and packed up and laughed at our mistakes. Even marvelling at our success.

We rested and ate and sat around and told stories – and I listened!

In the evening we saw the dangers of early beers which was completely overshadowed by the care of each other.  Most of all the chats and the jokes and the conversation was of meaning, and acceptance and care.  Love and politics and religion and all the taboo subjects are only the food of arguments when you don’t listen, and love, and respect.  The jokes will always win when they succeed with humour, no sarcasm and mostly when they are about yourself.  Fatigue set early with drinks and food and mostly with a day well spent.  And the tiredness drapes over you like a blanket of comfort and the glow of mutual contentment.

We sleep the sleep of a good day – with the sting of the sun on your skin and the glow of love from those who just lived a wonderful day with you.

The morning was slow but filled with the true love of a morning cuddle and the dozing of a big day and night.

… we ate again and moaned the heads of experience yet not fully learned.  We rested and laughed at a movie and lounged on the lounge.

… and the moment came when we parted.  No long goodbyes but ones with hugs and handshakes and kisses that savour a moment, the many moments of love and fun and friendship.

The last wave as the car pulls away is the hardest unless it is not filled with the afterglow of the days, the afternoons, the moments that actually make a life.  You will never be alone again.

The moments can so easily be lost in the noise of what we are supposed to believe is significant. There are a lot of photos that will never compare to the snapshot of complete and total connection and absolute joy.

I sit and I write now, not long after, and I can feel the inhalation of hitting the cold water which is completely overshadowed by the inhalation of joy from a significant moment, a shared laugh, a gasp at nature, a touch, a hug, or the fleeting moment of eye contact.

The afterglow is more than a memory – it is the now a part of who I am. Thank You.