Moments

So 2012 draws to a close, and I reflect on all of the moments in the year that made me laugh, made me cry, made me grow, made me strong. Moments that define one year in my life. Each accompanied by a picture.

A Silly Moment

In March, Summer and I had brunch at a fantastic deli in the bay area. I had a latke with my omelet, and had to take a picture of Cali Swimmy on said latke to share with my Jewish friend, Maayan. A lady at the table next to us did a bit of a double take when I whipped a small rubber duck out of my purse, set it on my plate, and snapped a picture. I'm used to this reaction.

"It's a long story," Summer helpfully explained, as a grin spread across my face.

"And a good one!" I added. "My duck has a duck friend in New York City, who happens to be Jewish." The lady smiled, and replied, "I've never seen anyone take a picture of a duck on a latke!"

A Proud Moment

When I finally hit goal weight in September, the first person I told was Matt. Of course he was the first person I told! For one thing, I was at the gym when I weighed in, and he works there...but also, he's the trainer who helped me get there, who patiently answered all of my questions and talked me down from freaking out about knee pain, running woes, back issues, you name it.

People tell me how awesome I am for losing ninety pounds, for making an athlete out of a person who formerly hated pretty much all physical activity. And it's true that I had to do the hard work, to keep moving, putting one foot in front of the other. But it must be pointed out that without Matt the Reasonable (and before him, Gershom the Meanie), I'd never have made it this far. When I skipped up to Matt's desk on that September day, shoving my iPhone in his face to show him a picture of the scale reading 130, you'd better believe it was every bit as much his proud moment as it was my own.

A Moment of Perfect Joy

In April, I embarked on a wild and hectic weekend of choir rehearsals, a job interview, and a lot of driving and clothes-changing (interview outfit to jeans to choir dress to jeans, etc). In this weekend, I would sing the epic "Belshazzer's Feast" by William Walton, an experience that is probably the top choral moment in my life so far. I would ace that job interview and later be offered the position, teaching a three-week summer program for Chinese exchange students. But before that weekend, there was an evening rehearsal at a local high school, on a rainy late afternoon. And there was a moment where the clouds parted, the sun peeked through, and a perfect, full-arc, double rainbow graced the world, reminding me that no matter how busy life gets, there are moments of perfect joy that surprise you and take your breath away.


A Moment of Profound Sadness

Life gives us joy, but it also gives us sorrow. In November, I lost my sweet Harley Dude unexpectedly. He was only four years old, and I never dreamed I'd get so little time with him. Harley was a "purrvert" and a twerp. He was far too curious and naughty for his own good...and he was a sweet, loving little dude who purred like the motorcycle I named him for. I miss him like crazy, and I'll never forget him.




A Moment of Hilarity

My friendship with Summer is not without its moments of laughter and craziness. After all, we survived Chico Music together. In the last few years, it's been harder to see as much of each other as we'd like, with work, living further apart, and all that other icky adult stuff. But when we do get some time together, it's always fun--good to catch up, good to talk, good to laugh.

In January, we had an overnight adventure in San Jose, visiting two California missions and the Winchester Mystery House. We did a little shopping, had frozen yogurt and Chinese food and listened to good music in the car. Then, on a run to CVS pharmacy for Summer to get a charger for her phone, we found the most ridiculous and awesome rubber duck ever. He was on clearance, only five bucks, and I had to have him. How we laughed at this marvelous, absurd duck.

Biggie Swimmy came home with Cali and I, and sits on my piano to this day.

A Moment of Clarity

In July, I spent three weeks teaching sixty exchange students from China some American songs to help them better learn and practice their English skills. I had certainly worked with children of Chinese heritage in my career, but never with students who were only visiting from the country, who had never experienced the United States in person before they came to us. It opened my eyes to the fact that I know very little about China or its people, how it works, how it runs, why it is the way it is. I've started reading up on it a little, and it's fascinating.

But what is really amazing is that teenagers are just teenagers, whether they are American or Chinese. Our American buddies bonded closely with their guests, and it was a joy to watch them blend together in a big, happy social group. Watching a large group of these American and Chinese kids playing cards in San Francisco's Union Square helped me realize that the kids are alright, and the world is going to be okay.
 

A Moment That Defies Explanation

In 2006, I rented "Chariots of Fire," the movie about British Olympic sprinters. I love British movies, and I enjoyed this one...even as I marveled at one runner in that infamous opening beach scene, who ran with a wide, happy smile on his face. How could anyone smile while running? I remember thinking he was insane.

See, in 2006, I was not a runner. I had tried once or twice in my life, but I was convinced that I couldn't do it...fast forward these six years and I had become a Reluctant Runner, the person who goes out there and gets the job done. But last Christmas, I somehow started to break through the wall, and running started getting better. Not easier, mind you--nothing about running is easy, there's always the risk of shin splints or knee pain or sore hamstrings or my glutes protesting with every step. But suddenly, it wasn't this huge, awful chore but something I simply did because I wanted to, because it's good for me, because it clears my head and organizes my thoughts and ramps up the endorphins. I started running 5Ks, seeing my times improve. I joined a running club.

And then, one cold, wintry morning of overcast skies, early in 2012, I went out for a run. I remember running the streets of my neighborhood, free from pain, gliding along, my ponytail flying behind me. Suddenly I realized I'd become that runner--the one with a huge smile spreading across my face.

A Really Great Moment

Barry, Vern, Claire, Mom, Dad

In the spring, my dad's long-time friend Barry came to California from Arizona to attend a funeral. The night before the funeral, he stopped by our house to catch up with Mom and Dad, and to have dinner with  them and another couple, Vern and Claire.

Dad, Barry and Vern go back over forty years, to training days at Mather Air Force Base here in the Sacramento area. They were all at each others' weddings, and they've kept in contact over the years. Vern and Claire live in the same neighborhood as Mom and Dad now, and they are all still close (in fact, we had Christmas dinner at their house this year).

I had heard a lot about Barry over the years, and I'd met him a few times, but it had been ages since I'd seen him and I was dying to sit him down and ask him what my dad was like in those early years (he was a "little shit," which I think I already knew!). It was fantastic to listen to my parents and their friends reminisce about all of the adventures they had as Air Force officers and officer's wives. For all of them, the military was not a job, it was a career, and a lifestyle. And the friendships the military formed in them are steadfast and life-long.

Jesse (hidden by an elbow), Tom, Tim, Richard

A Dorky Moment

"I'm LadyMeg on Twitter. I just wanted you to know that."

Oh, brother, way to stay cool and collected in front of your favorite rock band, Meg. It's all good, though, the guys of Keane are used to the "fangirls" and as these things go, I'm not that bad, really. I accidentally completely ignored Tim (I blame his so-called Laser Eyes of Doom) and finally got to meet Tom, the lead singer, and tell him I love his voice. But more than that, I got to enjoy two amazing concerts in one weekend. Frist, on Saturday night in Oakland, a full, proper concert with sound and lighting and a long set. The Keane boys were in top form, full of energy and giving us one fantastic song after another. Then on Sunday, they did a small acoustic gig at Amoeba Records in San Francisco's colorful Haight-Ashbury neighborhood.

"Somewhere Only We Know" was still absolutely magical, and it was great to hear the songs from their new album, Strangeland, live. They'll be back here in the Golden State in a couple of weeks, and I can't wait to see them again.

Small carpets, waiting for the small people who will sit on them.

A Moment Where Everything Was...Right

How I missed teaching! This year, I'm back--very part-time, only one day a week, but doing something I love. My Fridays are absolutely wild, and I hardly sit still from the moment I wake up at 5:15 to the moment I get home, just before 4:30 in the afternoon. I sing, I dance, I play recorders. I make silly voices, I praise, I scold, I sing some more.

And I love every minute of it.

On that first day at Petite School, I was excited and nervous. But as I looked down at all of those expectant faces and watched smiles light them up as I taught them the race car song, a sense of rightness settled in me. I was absolutely born to teach, and while I have growing and learning to do yet myself, I am absolutely right to pursue teaching (in classrooms, and possibly, as a personal trainer someday soon).


The ever-popular (and over-quoted, so forgive me for using it here) song, "Seasons of Love" reminds us that the measure of a year is 525,600 minutes. That's over half a million moments that make up one year in one life. Some are wasted on Facebook, others are used for sleep. It's the moments like the ones listed above that truly define a life. 2012 had some great moments, and some not-so-great moments. Here's hoping 2013 brings many more moments that take my breath away.