Five Minutes

During our outing today, the world stopped and faded away. I sat down on a beach, heard the waves lapping in, soaked in the sun with sun-warmed rocks beneath me, layed back and for the first time in over six months I just simply was.

Andy had Carolyn a few yards away--near enough for me to feel I was "with them" and far enough away that I could claim the five feet around me on all sides as mine alone for just a moment.

I sat and heard the waves, listened to the bird songs, heard my daughters happy sounds. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply. And then the world faded away.

Growing up, I loved to go outside and wander down to the pond where I would sit on the dock for a long time until I didn't realize the water was beneath me and the sky was above me. I'd sit there until I felt a part of the water and the sky and the summer sounds. As an adult I try to do that from time to time. It's something I need. The essence of Val gets off-kilter when I don't take the time.

But it's been so very long since I've been able to. So long since I haven't needed to be an arm's length away from Carolyn because I was THE adult in charge. It's been so long since I've not had a crisis to deal with or a house to move into or a cross-country trip to travel. It's been so long since I've been content that my family is together and ok.

And today it was. Today for five minutes, I could just BE.

And that five minutes was enough.