I remember my junior high school music teacher relating a story about his wife or his girlfriend who later became his wife–I don’t remember exactly because I was probably wondering how this Priest who taught music in a Catholic school was allowed to be married–now wiser in the ways of the world, I am thinking that if this school didn’t seem to see a contradiction, perhaps the Vatican shouldn’t either….but that is a diatribe for another day. I have digressed too far and I fear I will have to start over again.

I remember my junior high school music teacher relating a story about his wife or his girlfriend who became his wife. He said that he drove four hours to spend about 30 minutes with her every two weeks when he had leave.  He did it multiple times and said it was completely worth it.  Being young, I wondered if it was worth it, but either didn’t keep questioning it, or took the shortest answer (no) and moved on.

Now years later, I got a text from my girlfriend explaining that she was waiting for me at a particular subway station. I was at least twenty minutes away from meeting her and I told her she could go home rather than wait.  She graciously offered to wait.

To make a long, though not particularly exciting story short, we met at the station. I offered to buy her a coffee as a consolation prize, but she deferred.  I never did ask her how many times it was customary to refuse an offer in her culture, so I am stuck accepting her first answer.  Additionally our unscheduled bus pulled up so we chose to board.

I relate this story because it was Today’s Perfect Moment. It was so nice to have someone to ride the bus with.  I felt bad for her waiting, but I was glad that she did.  I would like to believe that I would do the same, but I am afraid that I may not live up to that.