Well, I did it. I missed witnessing yesterday’s total eclipse of the sun. Oh, I knew about it months ago, noticed people buying special eyeglasses or making their own viewers from cereal boxes and the like. But my typical combination of lazy and busy meant that I reached the magic moment both unprepared (lazy) and distracted (busy). I know friends and family traveled long distances by car, even by plane, to get to the optimum viewing locations. Whereas I had only to venture out my front door here in Lewes, Delaware—and I didn’t manage that. To be fair, we were pretty far from a “totality” spot, so I’m not sure how spectacular a sight I missed. Plus, Aiden and Peter are with us, and Mom Nature chose the boys’ naptime for her rare display (some mother SHE is!!) In any event, it’s over now until 2024, when I will be a (hopefully) still spry 67 year old and can have one last shot at seeing it. Meanwhile, I will ride out the plethora of identical eclipse photos clogging my Facebook feed for a few more days, until the fickle public moves on to the next big thing.
What did I not miss out on yesterday, August 21, 2017?
I did not miss the chance to play on the beach with my very favorite little guys, twice, in fact—ocean beach in the morning and sandbar at the bay in the late afternoon. I got to watch Aiden’s single-minded efforts to transport the sand into the ocean, one small shovelful at a time, and to marvel at intrepid young Peter crawling happily along, oblivious to the fine coating of sand over his entire little body. I took advantage of the opportunity to give Aiden a long bath in the big tub in our condo last night, and to cuddle Peter as he rested his sleepy head on my shoulder.
There are universally momentous events in life, for sure, and I need to do a better job of preparing for and witnessing these. But somehow at the end of my days, I feel quite certain that the truly “moment”ous times for me will be days like yesterday, when I realized that Aiden now, adorably, begins many of his sentences with the word “actually”, and that Peter can wave to people on cue. Days when I see my children’s looks and personalities appear again in my grandchildren, and the past thirty years fall away in an instant.
We’re off to Funland on the boardwalk in a little while, to ride the exact same rides Sheridan, Evan, Rose, Patrick and Julie rode back in the day. It’s a beautiful sunny afternoon—no shadow of the moon passing through today. I missed that sight, with no real regrets.
And someday, when people ask each other where they were the day the sun was blotted out, I will know that the joy that I experienced yesterday totally eclipsed even the greatest of all natural wonders.