As I snuggle up with Tyn on the couch in this very moment, her head rests on the petite peppermint Christmas “pillow” that for almost fourteen years, she’s never known is actually a squeaky dog toy I purchased as a Christmas bargain, one which she would thoroughly enjoy pulling the stuffing from to find the squeaky prize in the middle. How I’ve gotten away with this for over a decade while having a canine companion who has aspects of intelligence that surpass my own I can’t tell you. The candy-striped bin that she knows is her stocking sits beneath two other bins by the tree with care, sniffed almost daily in hopes that St. Nick will soon be here. The white tree lights shimmer and bounce off our red-and-white-themed seasonal decor and her very audible grizzly bear snores that have been a part of our lives since she was no longer than my forearm create my smiles. The top of her head gets pets, kisses, and rubs as she digs into my side to get as close as she possibly can to me and I think, wow, this is the perfect moment.
Just a few hours earlier today, as I was heading out for some brief solo errands after placing all stocking bins high on the dresser out of paws’ reach (refer to previous post: age 14 doesn’t stop her zest for everything wonderful), Tyn just knew in her mind that we were getting ready for a fun outing. She bounced, paced, panted, and peeked around every corner I turned as key indicators of her excitement. The to-do list in my mind became irrelevant; I stopped for a moment and realized the value in changing my course. Into the car she went with me. Grocery staples were purchased in minutes and then we went to her favorite dog shop where she chose three treats: two selected by brown, speckled and ant-bitten curious dog nose that went into my hand and one pulled from the alluring basket by the combination of incisors and a very long tongue; this third prize was eaten immediately as I assured the shop manager we’d be purchasing “Tripe Twist.” Next, we headed for an unplanned December swim at the Intracoastal Waterway. Smiles abounded, sniffs of random “washed up stuff” were super important, and springing helicopter twirls ruled the moment. Don’t forget the always-needed venture into the tall beach grass to roll around and act silly while picking up every single sandspur present on the eastern US coast in the process.
My point is we chose to stop to share sweet moments and appreciate the life right there in front of us to be had. We put the everyday rote on pause to relish in shared joy. I had 578 things to do, but I didn’t care. I think it was 579 now that I think of it. As I enjoy the perfection I’m so lucky to have happening in my life right now that is defined by one content baby by my side in this cozy setting, I remember that happiness in life comes from stopping to smell the roses and that sayings such as this come to be for a reason. This is a concept we’ve all heard of before, yet we forget to make it happen. Being that Tyn and I are beach gals, I’m going to call this happening a sunglasses moment, as in, stop and grab your sunglasses: get stoked because this is gonna be awesome.
A beautiful moment can be right in front of our faces and we can easily disregard it because we think our tasks take precedence. The question to ask , though, is when we are in a retired state kicking back in a rocking chair on the front porch one day looking back, sunglasses on, will we remember that we bought the milk and bread or that we laughed uncontrollably by the sea on a random Friday? Being a productive member of society is important. Appreciating life in all of its tiny moments is the goal.
So, put your shades on, watch your fur baby start to bound across the living room like a tiny reindeer preparing to dash away after he just got a graham cracker cookie at the last beach house with Santa, and reach your epiphany. Happy December 19!