See that cup? A half hour ago, it was filled to the brim with frothy swirls of espresso and steamed milk. I wanted to savor each sip, but I couldn't keep my hands off for long. Now it's but a happy memory.
The really nice thing about that cup is that it was free. It seems I stood in line at Panera for just a bit longer than the lady behind the counter felt comfortable with. We had a nice talk while she made my latte, and then when I pulled out my wallet to pay, she waved my money away and said, "You had to wait too long for this."
That was a nice surprise. Almost as nice as the free wireless that came with my free latte. I still can't believe I live in a time where you can whip your Mac open and just check your email--just like that, with no modem, no cords, no hassle.
Two happy little surprises. But they don't compare to the surprise I got earlier this week, when I spoke with a long lost cousin (and friend) for the first time in twenty-six years.
How do those years go by? Why do we let people go? I don't have an answer. I just know I'm thankful events transpired in such a way that Tracy found my number and called. Hearing his voice brought on a memory fest; I've spent the last few days letting myself go back. I've been eleven again this week ... and fifteen ... and nineteen. I've remembered faces and laughter and happy times, and though it's made me grieve for some who are lost to me forever, it's made me grateful for those who remain.
The sun has just broken through the gray canopy we've been living under for three days. One bright shaft finds its way through the bronze scaffolding outside the cafe and bathes my table in warmth. Sitting here in this place, warm and happy and thankful, I can almost forget yesterday's rain.