Better Than This

I walked in the door and found my mom standing with a video camera balanced on her shoulder. I stared at her, feeling confused, until she motioned for me to turn around.  Behind me, in our family room, stood several of my closest friends. All together they yelled, Surprise! Laughter filled the room. I cried because I felt embarrassed and loved. And, tears are my go-to emotion. Was it my 10th birthday? Maybe 9th? I can’t remember, exactly. Katy was there, and Jennifer, too, I think. So was Heather and maybe BethAnne, I think. We ate cake and opened presents and spent the night dancing to Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”, while my Mom documented it all with a VHS tape. (Lord, let those tapes be lost forever.) We stayed up late into the night talking and dancing and by the time my head hit the pillow the only thought in my head was, life can’t get better than this.

*******

It was a warm day in early June at the end of my junior year of high school. I rounded the corner on the track of The Ohio State football stadium and raced toward the finish line where my teammate, Somer, stood ready and waiting. When I reached the finish line, I reached the baton toward Somer and she took it and sped away. I made my way to the infield where Katy and Stacey, the other two members of my relay stood waiting. They were still breathless from the 800 meters that they’d each run. We stood and watched as our teammate made her way one lap then two, finishing her leg to place us at the state meet and setting a new record for our school.

I fell to my knees with a mix of joy and exhaustion, said a silent prayer of thanks and thought to myself, life can’t get better than this.

*******
It was the middle of August after my senior year in high school. I sat around a campfire surrounded by friends who had walked the journey of high school alongside of me. Katy was there (she was always there–she’s still there. . . here), Becky and Rich and Joel, and probably Stacey and Liz, too. And Adam. We sat under the great big star-filled sky. Songs were sung, words were said, prayers were uttered. We were connected to one another and preparing for the different directions life would take us. My heart was felt sadness and joy all at once. I looked around me at the faces of my friends, cast in the orange glow of the crackling fire, and thought to myself, life can’t get better than this.

*******
It was a tiny room lit by a too dim overhead light and warmed by a too warm heating system. There was a loft, a couple of desks, a few chairs, and just enough space on the floor for all of us to gather. The girls were there–Miss, Sherri, Dri, Kendra, Anna, Tamara, Sarah. Maybe Vic was there? Maybe Shannon? Maybe Lacie? Randa? Kat? Whether we were all there or not–they were still The Girls. Twizzlers were certainly in our midst. And Diet Pepsi. We were in pajama pants, because, well, college. A question was asked. We all answered. The Circle Game, it’s called. I sat there among women who were strong, confident, unique and lovely. Somehow I landed among them.

We laughed. We cried. Stories were spilled out and caught with gentle hands and open hearts. In a tiny dorm room we discovered each other–we began to discover ourselves.

It seemed to me that life could not get better than this.

*******

The doors opened and I squinted as the bright morning sunshine hit my face. We walked out of a sweet white chapel and felt the warmth hit our faces. On either side of us, friends and family formed a line and I walked through bubbles flying everywhere through the air. I walked toward my sister who was holding open the door of her green Explorer that would sweep us away to our forever. (Or to the reception.) My hand fit perfectly in his. I looked up at him and smiled. My heart was full. Young love, the future ahead of us, wide open, our story waiting to be written.

I was his. He was mine. Mr. & Mrs. The world was ours.

I was certain this time, life can’t get better than this.

*******

Pain, uncertainty, waiting, anticipating, the beep-beep-beep of a machine, a few touch and go moments, breathing, breathing, breathing, and a few pushes. . . it’s a boy! I looked at Chad, tears of pride in his eyes. Tears of joy in my tired eyes. They placed him on my chest. Family entered–one by one. Chad’s parents, my parents. Exhaustion, infant cries.

I’m a Mom. He’s a Dad. We are parents.

Love like we’d never known it. In an instant, everything changed.

Certainly, life can’t get better than this.

*******

We walked in the door together–the four of us. I bent down and grabbed my two day old daughter. My toe-head almost two-year old bent down to take her in–his new little sister. There were were. A family. Mom. Dad. Brother. Sister. It was perfect.

I know it now. Life can’t get better than this.

*******

I sat up when the door opened. In walked Charlie, followed by my in-laws, one of them holding my sweet four year old daughter. My sister was in the room. My Dad, too. Charlie got close, kissed his new little sister. Chanelle held back and took in the sight of the dark haired infant that slept in my arms. I felt as if my heart would explode out of my chest. How was it possible that I love this much? That so much joy filled my heart. I looked around–Chad, our kids, my in-laws, my Dad, my sister–all the people I love so much.

This is it, I thought. Life just can’t get better than this. 

*******

Last Saturday we arrived home from a cold day on the soccer fields. I carried a pizza in from the car and sliced pineapple and washed blueberries. The five of us huddled on the couch and watched a movie while bantering back and forth. When bedtime came, the girls crawled into my bed while the boys lounged downstairs. When the room was dark and quiet, I listened the the quiet breathing of my girls set to the tune of classic piano that Chanelle had quietly playing from her iPod. I thought about the boys in the basement, likely watching a movie that has some sort of superhero in it. I thought about the girls laying next to me. I let it sink in–the weight of love I feel for these people. How did I get this lucky? This blessed?

I wonder. . . can life get better than this?

*******
I watch Charlie get into the car with my father-in-law. Off to the movies they go. Again, the super-heros. When they arrive home, we chat in the driveway. We hear about the movie and Ihop following the movie. We say good-bye. The girls hug Gramps. He holds on for just a second longer. Charlie says thank you. Gramps gets back in his car. He looks back at us and says simply. . .

It doesn’t get better than this. 

*******
And maybe that’s what it is. Whatever has passed and whatever is yet to come, perhaps there is always good. There is a best in every season. The trick, I think, is simply to see it. To feel it. To allow it to sink in.

********

Recently, I heard these words by Daphne Rose Kingma. . .

Holding on is believing that there’s only a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.

Maybe that’s all there is to it. . .