The Numbers Game and Visits

I struggle with the exactness of numbers—that there is no room for error. Grey areas are few in the world of numbers but sometimes numbers remind me that they are a wonderful tool for measuring moments.

The stats

It was just one evening. Two friends, closing the gap on 3596 kilometers (or 38 hours) if we drove. Two time zones, talking for five hours from 5:00 until 11:00 pm on a moderately chilly winter night. A compassionate -12 Celsius (10 Fahrenheit for my nonmetric friends) kept things crisp but not unbearable while 1,000,000 snowflakes swirled outside and as many words whirled inside on that January evening. There were some pauses for the occasional happy exhale.

We drank one bottle of Pinot Grigio and two glasses of red something or another. All the while also chewing through six pieces of homemade roasted vegetable pizza with a smattering of a half dozen toppings. We chased supper with two huge slices of orange olive oil cake and two cups of tea.

We punctuated the night with endless laughs, agreeable slaps on the countertop, and 101 great conversations. We closed the mini gap of four kilometers across town to her mom’s house with one warm goodbye hug and one wish for safe travels back to New Brunswick.

What I didn’t have

I didn’t have one photo. Not one. Zero.

Do more things that make you forget to check your phone.

Anonymous

As a traveler myself, I know how hectic it can be trying to get all the visits in while on a visit back home. My gratitude is deep for my friend and her time spent with me. There was no shortage of conversations. Nothing was taboo. No conversation or opinion was judged and there was definitely no lack of laughter or hope for the future.

When she left I turned to the space, the fireplace warming the room. I saw the card and chocolate she gave me on the counter where we had eaten pizza and drank wine. I realized that we didn’t get a photo together. I guess we were so deeply in the moment, having so much fun, that we forgot to document our visit.

I was left with the memory—a fragrance of what transpired—and of course some chocolate. I forgot to check my phone or take a photo. May you, my readers, live a life so full that sometimes you forget to check your phone.

As always, thank you for reading lovelies.