Dear Jackson,

October 1, 2009

A moment in time

Filed under: Life lessons — Tags: , — aJOHNymous @ 11:35 am

It has to be at least 65 degrees Fahrenheit when it happens. I’ll be driving somewhere, anywhere really, and I’ll get this sudden urge to roll down all the windows in the car and turn the music up really loud. My eyes usually want to close, but I am able to resist the urge. I am, after all, driving. There is sort of a dull tingle that begins to resonate through my entire being until I can even feel it in my brain. I begin to smile.

And then—it happens.

I’m 16 again. The air is cool and crisp as it whips across my face. The song blaring through the speakers is the only song that exists and it is perfect. Nothing else matters except for this moment—this frozen moment in time. It is destined to be locked away in my head until it can be contained no longer, at which point it will burst from my brain and take me over—but only for a moment. Like a snowball rolling downhill gathering more snow before it eventually stops, the moment gets bigger with every reoccurrence until it stops before truly becoming something remarkable. It’s a tease—a glimpse into the past as well as the future. In my highly enlightened state, I am in nirvana. I would live the rest of my life in this moment if I could.

And then—it’s gone.

The moment can last anywhere from 10 seconds to the entire duration of my drive. As soon as it becomes self-aware, it usually slinks away slowly. I have no control over when it happens or for how long. The description above does it no justice whatsoever. It truly is an indescribable sensation.

So what’s the point of this? Well, the last time it happened, I was thinking about you.

It was a Friday and I was on my home from work. I was excited because we were taking you to your first baseball game at Miller Park later that evening. I was stuck in traffic in a construction zone when it happened. An old Mest song started playing from my iPod and I began to feel that familiar tingle. I rolled down the windows, turned up the music, and proceeded to lose myself in the moment the whole ride home. It was bliss. My thoughts turned to you, your mom, the game, my past, the future, and life in general. It just felt so good to be alive.

I hope your life is filled with many moments like this.

I hope that you’ll look at me someday and give me a knowing nod.

I hope that one day you’ll describe these moments to your own child.

I hope that eventually you’ll understand.

I hope.


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