The Sleepover
There were pictures coming each step of the way: on the bus, at the playground, waiting for the subway. A slice of pizza and Steve the penguin on the screen. Even brushing her teeth. From the moment it began until lights out at night. Each image bringing a smile to my heart and a tear to my eye.
It was as it had been imagined for years in the movie playing in my head. The two of them buddies, on an adventure together exploring the city. Easy company.
Yesterday was election day and school was closed. What was a kindergartener to do with free time in the middle of the week? Having a sleepover with her uncle had been discussed, briefly, and an overnight bag had been readied, but the decision was all hers and, well, best not to push it.
In the afternoon, when everyone was finishing up the visit to the museum she turned and whispered to her mom, "does Richie know about the sleepover?" And so it was.
She is the first grandchild, the only niece. She has been joined now by a younger brother, his beautiful smile, curly hair and dimples surely enough to move mountains and melt hearts. But today was hers alone. Strike that. Theirs.
Life is full of snapshots that we store away, memories that have far more significant meaning to us than the rest. The times where something, possibly seemingly very ordinary to those peering in from the outside, is in our own universe so much greater.
The first light of day is not upon us yet. She is likely still fast asleep on the couch. But at 5:01 this morning, in response to an earlier text from the family about how the day had gone, a simple two word reply appeared on the screen: "the best."
Indeed.