“Come outside and sit with me for a minute,” he says. “The sun is just going down. The sky looks awesome.”
“I’ll be right there,” she replies. “I just want to put this food in the fridge and clean up the kitchen.”
The momentum of the day carries her through one chore, then another, and then another. She hustles to pack up the leftovers, rinse the dishes, and wipe the counter. She mentally assigns additional chores to her to-do list: return an email that she neglected during the day, call the pediatrician and make an appointment for her son, shift the clothes from the washer to the dryer before they become a foul morass of sodden garments to be rewashed.
“Are you coming? I’ll help you in a few minutes.” he calls from outside, pleading with her to put the housework temporarily.
“Just about,” she responds as she nudges the refrigerator door shut with her foot and tosses a damp washcloth into the sink.
She grabs her cup of coffee (potential insomnia be damned) and her iPhone to send one quick email as makes her way through the patio doors.
“You made it just in time,” he says as she steps over the threshold. There is a twang of disparagement in his voice, one that wordlessly questions, “Did you really need to do all of that? Couldn’t the chores have waited?”
She notices the annoyance, knowing that he is right, of course. The kitchen clean-up and emails could have waited. Again, the momentum of the day won out. The self-imposed list of chores deprived her of a few moments of twilight serenity – that spectacle of the season when the brilliant glow of a summer day refuses to yield to the shadows of dusk and, for a brief time, daylight and darkness share a dance together before the one triumphs over the other.
But as she eases herself into the deck chair, lamenting the fact that she squandered the all-too-brief twilight tranquility, she realizes that she isn’t too late. He was right, she made it just in time. She has arrived at twilight’s climax, when the sky is ablaze in fuschias, auburns, and indigos and a sliver of the moon is just beginning to show his face.
She exhales a long, slow, grateful sigh, knowing that this is where she should be. Right here, right now. She admires the magnificent sight before her – the trees quickly morphing from emerald greens into smoky silhouettes, the sky’s cobalt hue surrendering to its charcoal shade, the half-moon taking on its role as nature’s nightlight.
She turns to her left, looks at him, and she is awe-struck. She is captivated by the calmness in his eyes. She is amazed by his increasing handsomeness and youthful appeal, in contrast to her once taut face that is now showing its age with laugh lines, sags, and crevices. She is overwhelmed by the spectacular good fortune and divine blessing bestowed on her when he chose her – her! – to shares life’s bright days, dark nights, and calm in-betweens. And she resolves that she will never again let the momentum of the day triumph over the peaceful serenity of a few twilight moments spent with him.