Lunch Break

Your boss is gone so you decide to take a full hour for your lunch break today. Outside it's the perfect sort of day; your favorite fall weather. The air is cool and a little damp and the wind is just strong enough so it's more than a breeze but doesn't leave your hair wild and smelling like dirt. A homeless man is playing the saxophone and the melody follows you down the street and around the block. While you're standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change, a single red leaf falls at your feet and you're struck by the contrast between its dark edges against the pale pavement. When you catch your image in plate glass windows, the reflection seems more fleeting than usual-- more sad and beautiful, too.

***

I went to Borders today to buy a new Bible. I lost mine some months ago, just up and left it who knows where. For awhile I resisted buying a new one, hoping mine would make its way back, but it never did. And in the meantime, I hobbled along, doing dumb things like reading it on-line and stealing the one off my mom's bedside table.

I found a good, small, no-frills copy and took it to the cash register to pay. The guy behind the counter was quite attractive and funny and didn't have too many pins with dumb slogans attached to his nametag. He was left-handed. He liked my necklace. At the end of the transaction he handed me my change and said I'd ask for your number but it seems like you might be dating the big guy upstairs. I dropped the quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies all over the floor.

***

There is a pre-school near my office and sometimes, when I'm in luck, I pass the teachers and their small charges on the sidewalk. The 4 and 5 year olds walk hand-in-hand, in two long columns, and their teachers point out the dangers and delights of the city. They are learning to navigate the big wide world.

I take my time on the trip back to the office today, and walk behind them, at their short-legged pace, listening to the happy chatter. Right now I am content with my life and truly, deeply grateful for it. Still, more and more, I think about Jack, Pascal, Emmett and Sebastian -- the small, serious boys with dark hair and bright eyes that I've painted into favorite versions of my future life. Today, I imagine my boys in striped shirts, walking under the changing leaves with these kids in front of me. I wish for someone to hold my hand as we learn to navigate the big wide world together.