It was a mailbox moment. A community friend I have not seen all winter was fixing an ill neighbor’s mailbox. We exchanged greetings and then just started to chat. We soon realized we had both been thinking the same thing–me as I drove up our windy 17 mile mountain road and he as he did his good samaritan deed. We talked about living in the moment. And then we talked about Amy Crouse Rosenthal, about our mutual dislike for the phrase “too busy,” and about skiing each run as if it was your last.
Lately, during my “thinkings,” (the no radio, no grandkids, stream of conscious times) many versions of the same theme have popped up. I think about hiking the hardest mountains we can possibly hike now because we can, skiing every possible day even if it’s stormy and windy because we will love it once we’re on the slopes, setting the table with a table cloth and candles every night because dinner together is always special, spending sometimes very long days with a four-year-old because I want to, and pulling off to the side of the road to really look at the intense purple vetch hillside because I thought to do it.
It’s a good time of life.