So, I spent the weekend with my Auntie Dude and Cousin Sparky. Now, a quick word about these two: they are insane amounts of fun. I got up at the ass crack of dawn on Saturday morning and boarded the Greyhound excited to see them, and fairly certain that I’d come back with at least one rib-cracker of a story.
Instead, I came back with a hundred small moments. There was the moment Sparky woke up in the middle of the night with a wicked muscle spasm in her shoulder—and I worked the kink out, kissed her head and told her I loved her. There was laughing over Auntie Dude’s love of bacon (seriously, she’d eat it for every meal if she could). There was telling Cousin Sparky the story behind Recipe for Surreality. There was the crazy mash-up of warm-happy-love giggles when I gave Sparky her hand back after drawing on it, and she told me that I was hired to design her next tattoo. There was the feeling that bubbled up when Auntie Dude hugged me after I got off the bus Saturday morning.
There was the moment when Auntie Dude asked why I hadn’t smuggled Milady into my backpack and onto the bus with me to visit—showing me that she’s not only happy for me and Milady, but also that she wants to be included in every part of my life. I know that she’d said she was happy for me before, and I know that she’s got nothing against the Queer Club (of which I am a card-carrying member), but it was still a powerful moment to have those words backed up by actions. There was the pleasure of introducing Sparky to the giggle-fest that is Eddie Izzard’s stand-up comedy bits. (I don’t care if they’re “old”, they’re still hysterically funny and can always make me laugh.) There was laughing with the two of them over funny moments in movies and funny internet pictures and sayings that need to be put on tee shirts and mugs.
And I realized something, riding the bus home (because buses are fabulous places to think, seriously). I had a wonderful time with them, in all these little moments. Because life isn’t about the big adventures and mind-blowing stories half as much as we think it is—so much more of life is lived in those small moments than we ever give them credit for.
So, in short: I went away this weekend hoping for an adventure, and what I got instead was wisdom about life and how to live. And a hundred small-but-incredible moments, of course.
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