Glad to Have You Here

I have always been so intrigued by love stories. I just find it so beautiful, the way every single couple on this planet (of which there are millions) has their own unique story. They have a place where they first met, the story of their first date, how they told each other they liked each other, and the list goes on and on and on. In fact, I often find myself looking at random couples crossing the street, riding together in the car, or juggling babies and think, “How did those two end up together?”

All to say, yesterday I was scooping ice cream for customers at Wilson’s, where I work. I can say I love working there, but I can’t say I am the greatest fan of standing behind a counter with two, or sometimes four, other sweaty bodies in a cramped space and asking customers who are often exhausting and complicated what kind of flavor they want. I know I should be patient and tell everyone to take their time and that I am so happy to have them there, but sometimes I find myself more on the side of annoyed. “Can I get two flavors in a single scoop?” “No, I’m sorry. Only one.” “Can I get a single scoop in a waffle cone?” “No, I’m sorry. We can only fill it to the top.” “Can I get a kid size?” “OH MY WORD. NO. KID SIZES ARE FOR TWELVE AND UNDER AND YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY WELL OVER SIXTY.”

Ya. It’s exhausting. I’m on this new “positive energy” kick and yesterday I was constantly finding myself complaining in my head to which I would tell myself, “Darian. Shut up. You are alive and breathing and working with sweet, nice people in an adorable restaurant right across from the beautiful lake. Stop complaining that you’re hot and exhausted and your arm hurts. You are blessed and you are FINE.”  So no, when the older ladies asked for a kid scoop I did not yell. I put a smile on my face and said, “No, I’m sorry. We can make it smaller for you, but we will have to charge you the same price.” Killin it.

Anyways, all to say, yesterday while I was standing behind the freezer an adorable lady came in with her husband. I told her I could help her whenever she was ready. “Oh, my husband needs to go to the bathroom. We can wait.” Well, being that I was free at the moment and there was no one behind her in line, I told her I could get her ice cream for her and then scoop her husband’s as soon as he was ready. “Oh, okay!” she agreed. She thoughtfully chose from our large selection of flavors and I started to scoop it for her.

Sometimes I see people and instantly really, really like them. I don’t know what it is, but some people just strike me as so awesome. And it’s usually a thing that happens with strangers. It’s like I meet people and know I will most likely never see them again and so I just want to experience all of their awesomeness that I can before they leave. Anyways, that’s what happened with this lady. She was just so cool. Her hair was short and trendy and she was dressed cute and so chipper and happy and calm and I just liked her.

So, as I was bending over the ice cream freezer, I asked her if she was from Door County. “Oh no,” she said, “My husband and I are from Illinois. But we actually saw each other for the very first time in this very restaurant.”

I looked at her, so enthralled by her story. “Right here? At Wilson’s? No way.” She proceeded to tell me that they were both “a couple of kids” and he was working on some news report thing and saw her in the restaurant and asked her some questions and they ended up meeting at a local bar and soon enough they were madly in love and now, twenty-nine years later, they still are.

Her husband came out and slowly thought about which flavor he wanted. “Hurry up!” she said, with as much gentleness as frustration. I had been waiting on him for quite some time now and the line was getting longer. But I stood there, waiting, because I really didn’t mind. When he finally decided, I scooped his cone and gave them their change and watched them walk out the door, sad to see them go.

There are billions of people in this world and a billion ways to fall in love and a billion ways to dress and a billion jokes to laugh at and friends to make and pictures to take and forests to explore and the list goes on and on and on. But I suppose what makes life so intriguing, so interesting, so awesome is when it gets personal.  When it’s happening to you or a friend or a stranger you just met but really like, leaving you standing behind an ice cream counter saying “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m glad to have you here.”

Time

I am currently curled up in bed in my childhood vacation home located in Door County, Wisconsin. Except this time I’m not just on a week long vacation. I’m here for the entire summer.

I suppose you could say I’m here because I needed a job and to make money and blah blah blah but it has turned out to be so much more than that. I am here because I’m getting to live with Dee, who is as close to family as one can get without sharing the bloodline. I am here because one of my closest friends chose to spend the summer with me, even if it meant leaving a job she had been incredibly dedicated to for six summers. I am here because I, too, left a job I was dedicated to and put my entire heart and mind into ever since I was old enough to leave home. I am here because I longed for adventure and long days at the beach and drinking sweet tea and laughing and sleeping in instead of spending way too many moments crying and under stress that at times seemed unbearable. I am here because I wanted something new.

This morning I woke up around 10:45. Well, that’s not exactly true. I got up around 10:45. When I woke up was probably a while before that. I have an unusual love for doing, quite literally, nothing. Regardless, I got out of bed and put on a sweater and threw my disastrous lion hair on top of my head and stretched a little. I actually worked out the other day and my legs are sore. And then I wandered into the kitchen, because I love breakfast and there were cinnamon roles on the counter. I said good morning to Dee, smiling ear to ear as she thanked me for cleaning the house the other day and said how much she appreciated it and how much she loved me. I was glad she noticed. The reason I cleaned had little to do with the fact there was dust on the bookshelves and food on the floor and much to do with the fact I longed for her to know how grateful I am just to be here.

I threw a cinnamon roll in the microwave and told Dee we needed to cut the cantaloupe as it was probably getting old to which she declared, “It’s all chopped up and in the fridge.” So I ate cantaloupe and a cinnamon role for breakfast, sitting on the chair at the table in the kitchen, happy to be alive, happy to be me.

I realize this kind of sounds like I’m living in some heavenly daze, as if the sun is always shining and the kitchen tile is paved with gold. But the thing is, I’ve recently been reading a book about positive energy and about the remarkably true fact that life is what you make it and my thoughts have changed which has made me change, which, in turn, has quite remarkably changed my life.

This past year at Southern, I spent a lot of time, well, not enjoying time. I’d be in class thinking “Oh my word I can’t wait for this class to end.” And then it would end and I’d go to work and think “Wow I’m so bored I can’t wait for work to be over.” Then work would be over and I’d go to my room and think “I can’t wait for the café to open. I’m so hungry.” And then I’d go to the café and bring supper to my room and think “I’m so tired. I can’t wait to go to bed.” And, looking back, I didn’t find much joy in class or work or supper or sitting in my wonderfully comfortable dorm room. I spent my time, well, wasting my time.

But I have developed a fierce desire to live in the moment. And as much as I struggle with this, I am getting a little better at it. It’s difficult for me. I like to know what I am going to do and I like to feel prepared and be on time and do well. But often I suffer for this. I spend my time thinking and worrying about what I will do instead of enjoying what I am currently doing.

So I’m trying to be different. I’m trying to do differently.

Tonight we went to Fyr Ball. It is a huge event in Door County, one that all my coworkers and bosses (who I love by the way) have been talking about for weeks. There are fireworks and bonfires and people from all over the place all come together to celebrate the beginning of summer. So Candace and I did our hair and headed out tonight. We stopped by a coffee shop nearby and read our current books, then walked down to the lake when we heard the fireworks start to go off.

There is something magical about standing around a bonfire with a group of perfect strangers, all enjoying warmth from the same source, all breathing the same air and hoping for a good time. We were admiring an adorable puppy that rather reminded me of Piper when the fireworks started. Evidently what we had heard from the coffee shop wasn’t the beginning of the show. But now, they were being set off quite rapidly from a boat a ways away on the water. Darts of light would shoot into the air, exploding into thousands of brighter lights that flooded the sky as they dropped down lower and lower, looking smaller and smaller until they vanished along with their reflection on the lake.

Candace and I were talking about how crazy it is that their sounds are so delayed. The sound of the firework doesn’t come until a good second after it explodes “And what I’m saying right now?” she said, “That’s delayed too. Like you’re hearing it well after I say it.”

I smiled. I have always found this intriguing. Sound, as crucial and mysterious as it is, has a fault. It is delayed. But is sound what has fault, or our hearing of it?

Either way, I enjoyed those fireworks. And I enjoyed our walk back to the car. I enjoyed walking into my summer home and telling Dee about our night and I enjoyed curling up in my bed, pulling out my computer, and writing.

I guess what I’m trying to say through all this is that I have so many reasons to be happy. I am meeting new friends who are so incredibly different from me and I love that. I am getting more than enough sleep and I am eating really yummy food and I am reading lots of books and spending a lot of time, well, enjoying time.

And I’m realizing that there is something so wonderfully and incredibly magical about this world that is a good place full of good people who are sharing the same source of heat, breathing the same air, all looking for a good time.