There are small moments when life is perfect. Absolutely perfect. You tend to pay dearly for those moments at some point or other, but they're totally worth it. Because this is what life is - deposits and withdrawals. Investment and return.
When I look at these children...these miracles that defy nature, science, and all reason...I am overwhelmed by the richness of my life. How does one get to be so insanely wealthy when really, all you've invested is a lot of hugs and a few sleepovers? Sure, their parents give vastly more than I do, but still...it's a small price to pay for the reward of watching these little people grow. You may put everything you have into being a part of a family, but you somehow always get more in return. A family is more than everything.
But I'm feeling a little mushy on the subject lately. Because I am selling all of my worldly possessions in order to market my novel. And the idea of being left with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes and a twin sized mattress could easily result in a total nervous breakdown. But I have felt particularly blessed with family over the last year and suddenly, my collection of dessert glasses just doesn't seem all that inspiring.
If I'm going to invest in something, I want more in return than a houseful of stuff. I want everything. I want more than everything. Life is a series of deposits and withdrawals. And this group of wonderful, frustrating, supportive, annoying, squeezable human beings are the big payload.
We went on a small family trip to the Heritage Park in Calgary. And while we all had much to say on the wonders of the park itself (it's quite a nice place to spend the day), it was really the moments. Oh, the moments.
For instance, when the 2 year old knocks down the 7 year old, steals his shoe and runs off laughing, you tend to feel the dreadful weight of serious things lift away. When the 9 year old surprises the baby with a lime green frog he won in an old fashioned carnival game, your belief in all humanity is reaffirmed. And when you're sitting with a group of grown ups, sharing foil-wrapped french fries picnic-style, you forget the quarrels, the disappointments, the childhood stings, and you bask in the luxury of having people in your life who know your every flaw and would still slay tigers for you.
Have a peek at some of my recent withdrawals from the bank of life and tell me I'm wrong.
Because this is life. Everything else is just stuff.