Glass Globe of Butterflies on a Tuesday Afternoon

I apologize in advance for those of you who have heard this story. And to those of you who are sick to death of hearing me profess my undying love for my husband, best you sign off now. Because on a day like today, a Tuesday, feeling uninspired, stuck inside as the afternoon looms ahead and the fog rolls in, the only thing I want to do is think of him.

The truth is, my life – my real life – started when a man walked into it, a handsome stranger in a starched white collared shirt. He’d stood dark-eyed and half smiling in the doorway of the Starbucks “on the hill."  I won’t indulge all details of our courtship. I’ll leave the gushy stuff for another dull wintery Tuesday. But for now, as I’m peering into the corners of my mind upon the ever-whirring light of love, I will share just one small memory, a moment really - one that I revisit over and over again.

It was our first date. Angelo picked me up, in that white bmw. I got into the car, and there he was, sitting right next to me. He was wearing a white collarless shirt and he smelled like heaven. I won’t gush about his appearance, except to say that he was beautiful in the way certain handcrafted wooden objects are beautiful – so seamless, smooth, lustrous, so fully realized and self-contained that it only strikes you seconds later and with the force of a lightning bolt: “Oh my God, that’s a chair!” At which point, you sit down and want to stay forever.

Our conversation was convivial, both of us making gifts to each other of little inane stories, shining them up and handing them over. We didn’t drag out our secret souls to dance around naked, just offered slight glimpses into the interior, colorful postcards from the lands of Leah and Angelo. It was all we needed. It was the beginning of the beginning of the only thing we would ever need. The universe shifted the moment he walked towards me for his 7-pump chai latte. The magic began the moment I set foot in the car. All of my moments had led up to this moment.

It may seem trivial, this small account, our love story. But it’s everything. It’s the only thing. And I hold it next to my heart like a glass globe full of butterflies, alive always, fluttering just beneath the surface, ready to inspire...for a rainy day, or even just a gloomy Tuesday afternoon.