I sat on a park bench in the middle of the afternoon. One of those precious-few moments in life where everything comes together, out of random chaos.
It was 72 degrees Faranheit, sunny, and with a cool breeze.
All around, there was the din of voices. People shuffled past me. Parents were pushing strollers with sacked-out babies and toddlers. Intermittently, children passed by who were either screaming or laughing; sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference.
As I waited over an hour, time did not matter. I was enjoying the moment. Reminiscing all at once, about the passage of time, I saw myself throughout various stages of life:
First, as a small child walking these same grounds; next, as a twenty-something, know-it-all, only interested in selfish endeavors; then as a parent, relishing the memories building in my children’s minds; and finally coming full-circle as an empty-nester, watching and savoring each of those different times.
Surprisingly, the cacophony of sounds blended into a form of silence.
I imagine it was much like what a professional athlete senses when the crowd is screaming, and suddenly, the sound fades into the background, allowing a hyper-clarity for that perfect throw, or pivotal play, that totally changes the outcome of a game or match.
Rarely do these moments last long, but I was able to milk this feeling for the better part of an hour – just basking in sentimental nostalgia like the helpless, romantic sap that I am.
What snapped me out of that special moment was the excited voices of MLB and our GD exiting the Grizzly River Run ride at Disneyland – and quite a little bit wet, at that!