“I also learned this year that my delight grows—much like love and joy—when I share it.”– Ross Gay, The Book of Delights
Jan 6, Saturday, noon. Sunny, cold (19 degrees), light north wind. Ebbing tide.
The sun pulls on we Alaskans, practically cave dwellers the last few dark weeks, like a magnet to steel. The beach was full of people and dogs, families and couples, sunglasses and down coats. It was cold, but so bright. Yes, we all agreed, what a day!
It is basketball season at the school and vacation season for those of us without kids in school. My sister is off to Mexico. We leave for Australia to see our son in less than a week. The summer clothes I ordered probably won’t arrive on time. The ones I need. T-shirts and shorts. A cotton dress. I made a rather random purchase of a linen shirt that’s pretty, but not critical, and of course that came in two days.
Today is Epiphany, the day the Three Wisemen arrived in Bethlehem on camels with their gifts and when we should be burning the Christmas tree and eating King Cake with the tiny toy naked baby Jesus hidden inside it. Except I haven’t taken the ornaments and lights off the tree yet, so best not to burn it, and I have a couple of deadlines before we leave, and Chip has year-end work at the lumberyard, so there’s no party. I know, we will be in the sun-burned country of happy Aussies and backyard kangaroos with our son and his family soon. A wonderful trip. Lucky us. I’m not complaining.
Confession: I am an anxious traveler and worse flier. I tried not to look or listen to the stories about the Alaska Airlines jet with the hole in it this morning. I know, Chip reminded me that the ending was happy. It was a quick, windy, noisy, terrifying, cold ride but everyone was okay when they landed.
I wish I hadn’t heard about the little boy that lost his shirt. Maybe I’ll put that linen one in my carry on, just in case. I don’t think I have a window seat.
Epiphany also means an “ a ha” moment. The time when we see the light. Thanks in large part to our daily date, I’ve been practicing delight. (There is enough woe in the world without me adding to yours)– And so, and soooo…. I told Beth, as we walked, talking myself into it…That it no doubt is good this happened before our trip, since the airlines will be extra careful and all the nuts and bolts and engines will be checked. It will be safer to fly now. I will wear my seatbelt even when the light isn’t on so I stay put if the wall or whatever the side of a plane is called, blows out…
Remember that scene in John Irving’s The World According to Garp? When Garp is being shown a potential home for his family and a small plane crashes into it? The real estate agent is horrified. Garp says he’ll take it! The odds are that it will never happen again. One less thing to worry about in the middle of the night.
Here’s something else that made me feel better: At 1:07 the sun went behind the mountains. In the afterglow, we saw a white contrail. An Alaska Airlines jet flying into the wild blue yonder, whisking all its crew and passengers safely to their journey’s end— and to the beginning of the rest of the day, night, week, month, year. The rest of their lives.
