Thanks to a last minute cancellation of my morning appointment, I ended up catching the end of the sun rise on the beach, in the pouring rain, in the company of my favorite New Orleans brew.
Well, sun rises are never not pretty, and this dark and grey morning was so breathtakingly beautiful, that I didn't even mind my favorite white pants from Bangkok being ruined in the process of me sitting in the wet sand. In fact, I was almost happy for them not having lived their life in vain, dying a slow death in my closet, but instead got to experience magical stuff like colorless sun rise, rain, and things of that sort. Then I remembered those fancy candles my mom had that we were never allowed to light because she was saving them for some special occasion in life, and then I also remembered my dad and I burning those candles down to the last of the wick the day my mom died. And I remember deciding how I was never going to waste a day of my life waiting for special moments but would make every moment count instead.
Then of course as I got home from the beach, my first order of business was rushing my white pants into the washing machine in record time, frantically saturating them in a triple dosage of laundry detergent, hectically trying to revive them with the determination of an ER doctor with the defibrillator paddles in his hands.
And for a minute there, during this less-than-special moment up in my laundry room, I couldn't help but wonder whether unfulfilled destinies and saving candles for special occasions is what keeps our dreams alive. Then I decided that sun rises make me way too philosophical and that saving my pants was more important than solving all the riddles of the universe in one day.
Until next time.
*More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones. -- Truman Capote