We sat on the curb, hugging our knees, laughing, crying, being raw in the moment. Children ran about us, their voices carried over to us by the slightly coolish breeze. Frenzied bugs feasted on our legs, as we sat on in ignorance. Not so ignorant now, as I sit looking at my red-pocked legs. Stupid bugs.
My friend had cornered me a few days earlier and we'd finally found a few sacred moments to sit and do some of our favorite things... Talk. Connect. Bond.
Then she turned to me and said, "I just needed to talk to you. You're my joy friend."
I mean, really, I'm touched that she said that, but I almost let the giggles erupt right then and there. I was afraid that if I let them sneak out, pretty soon, I would literally be rolling in the grass laughing hysterically, exposing myself to more bug bites and the inevitable grass stains. I kept the giggles in.
Instead, we came back to "joy eggs", a post I wrote last spring. We've both been going through very stressful, busy times in our lives, times when the joys seem to be few and far between. But when we stop and trained our hearts' eyes to look for them, it suddenly seemed that they were everywhere. It was like they had been hidden in plain sight and suddenly! they were so very obvious.
Our joys ended up being...
... the feeling of a 20-month-old grasping your finger, his four strides to your one. The big brown eyes staring up at you, trusting you, just thrilled to be with you.
... melting in your hubby's arms at the end of a loooonngg day, not having to say a word.
... a glass of ruby-red wine shimmering up at you.
... clean toilets.
... the laughter of our children. Not the naughty laugh, though. No, no, no. You know what I'm talking about. The laugh that just makes you glad you are alive.
... again, the slightly cool-ish breeze that reminds us that summers in Arizona are not eternal. It just feels like it.
... having a God-given friend, who just "gets" it.
Yes, we are the joyous ones.