A sunny December day. Loaded in the car, Dad driving. The big red Chevy Impala station wagon with the last seat facing outwards so you could thumbs up the drivers behind. The wide seats, and of course, no seat belts. I sat behind my dad as we drove on the open two lane highway. A perfect day. Me, all one hundred pounds of sixteen year old angst, the tan corduroy bell bottoms over long spindly legs and tan block heels. A green turtle neck shirt hugging my skinny, non-existent curves. My hair back in a pony tail and my signature make up-eyes lined with kohl and maroon lipstick, adornments of bangles, earrings and a thin gold chain. I listened to songs on the radio as the wind whooshed by. Up ahead were big bumpy clouds, with dazzling rays of sunshine piercing through. I thought to myself, “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
A sunny April day. Swinging in the backyard on the metal frame swing set which had two regular swings and a horse swing in between, and a shiny slide on the side. There were daffodils blooming along the fence and roses in the beds by the patio. Me in my post pregnancy yellow dress, holding my three month old baby girl as my three year old son rode the horse, laughing with glee as his father pushed him faster. I looked around- the warm sunshine, the blooming flowers, the laughing child, the sleeping baby, my young husband, eyes bright with love. I thought to myself, “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
A sunny June afternoon. I was driving my minivan with eight ten year old boys in the back. Me, in full soccer mom gear, They were tired after a morning at Kings Island, satiated with Skyline Chili and coke, and ready to detox with videogames. The music blared, the boys were talking at high decibel levels, when the song Timber by Pitbull played. “It’s going down, I’m yelling timber!” The boys decided to dance in the car to the music and the minivan rocked with their frenetic movement, as they shouted the lyrics and shook their little bodies. “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
A hot August evening. My college friends and I had gone for lunch downtown and got stuck in a downpour on the walk back. We ran in the rain, twirled around telephone poles and celebrated the monsoon with laughter. Now we were back at the college for the last events of the intercollegiate festival. We sat around a bonfire, warming up and singing songs-Beatles, Cat Stevens, my ding-a-ling. Looking in the flames and at the young, glowing faces, I thought, “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
A cool October evening. I was sitting on the floor of the temple with other devotees, listening to the chanting and choral singing around us. A young couple sat in front of me with their ten month old daughter. She tried to crawl away from them and grabbed someone’s shirt to stand on trembling chubby legs, ready to walk. She swayed with the music and laughed at the rhythms of the bells. Two grandmas were sitting next to her and they forgot the chants and prayers as they watched the little angel valiantly rocking back and forth in tiny shoes. The grandmas looked at her mother for permission, there was silent consent, and they picked her up, one by one. They smothered her in a warm hug, fierce and protective, loving and tight. They reveled in her baby softness and baby Johnson smell, They rocked back and forth, holding this precious gift, Their eyes glowed with a primeval love. As I watched this mini drama, I thought to myself, “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
A hot July day. Our first venture into camping at our friends cabin. A day spent kayaking and speed boating and sail boating off the dock, swimming and trying water skiing. In the night we went out on the lake to watch the meteor shower, friends in a boat, baby wrapped in a shawl, guitar and singing and bright stars, and the occasional meteor zooming across the sky. “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
So many moments. The explosions of laughter, the quiet comforts of home, the joy of the children, the dog, the giggles, the timeless lyrics of songs, the foggy morning vistas, the blazing sunsets, the musical cacophony of the birds at sunrise, Some days you are bogged down by gray skies and gray thoughts, lists of things to do, good and bad news, family,friends, issues, politics. Every now and then it is essential to press the stop button and pause to appreciate one thing, or many, “Remember this, it is a beautiful day.”
Anita Raturi 