twilight

I have led a happy life. If you were to ask me though what some of the happiest moments have been, I wouldn't tell you about my wedding or the day my son was born. The day of my wedding I was terrified. Not of getting married. I wanted to be with B more than anything. But of the wedding itself. My terror shows in my face in our wedding pictures. I never dreamed of my special day when I was a teen, never sought the spotlight. Never had a high school graduation party, a college graduation party, a wedding shower. In my whole life up to that point I had only had one day where I was in the spotlight, where the focus was me. That was my eighth birthday party. I grew up in a very small town in central Illinois. There were maybe twenty children in my class. My mom had suggested that I bring a friend home from school on my birthday. After walking from the north end of town to the south end where I lived, I opened the door to shouts of "Surprise". All the girls in my class had been invited to my party. But that wasn't my happiest day either.

The day my son was born was miraculous. I remember every detail of that day vividly. I lay in the hospital bed that night, unable to sleep, bursting with the knowledge that I had just had I baby. I just had a baby. I just had a baby. The thought swirled in my head. Though nearly every day since his birth that child has filled my life with happiness, that still wasn't the happiest day of my life .

My favorite time of day is twilight. When I catch a glimpse of that golden light sneaking across my kitchen table through my west-facing window, I slow down. I am filled with a melancholy contentment. A peaceful, reflective feeling meanders through my veins. I am content for this moment. The sky deepens to a neon pink, then an orange glow. I begin to panic. A deep ache washes over me for the day that is drawing to close. I believe it is these fleeting moments of contentment that are my happiest times.

I have other moments like these that have etched themselves in my mind. When I was a teen I had a small cake baking business. Many of the inhabitants of my small town would order cakes for those special occasions from me, especially my animal-shaped birthday cakes. One evening I was home alone cleaning the kitchen after baking a turtle-shaped cake. I was standing at the sink with the window up, my hands in dishwater and a breeze caressing my face. "At the Zoo" was quietly playing from the tan and white transistor radio that was propped in the window. As the breeze lifted a lock of my hair that feeling washed over me. I am content. I am completely at peace this moment. That feeling has revisited me later in life. Once as I sat atop the roof of our garage pounding nails in shingles along with B. Again motoring along the highway through Nebraska in our racing green Triumph Spitfire, top down, B at my side, wind lashing my hair into my eyes. Sharing popcorn with toddler J on the rusty green front porch glider while thrilling to a sudden summer rainstorm. Crouched by the front yard flower bed pulling weeds with sunshine soaking into my skin.




I have found that I'm not my happiest when I am happy, but when I am content. I have always preferred tragedy to comedy, quirky to mundane. Maybe I prefer contentment to happiness. Tonight when those first rays of twilight make me squint, I'll stop my dinner preparations for just a moment. I'll stand in the light with a glass of wine and I'll think "I am content". "I am content."