August 21st is my father's birthday. I am not sure when it become tradition but I did what I have come to do every year on my father's birthday: I opened up a little box of letters from him and read a few. I laughed and I cried and I thought about how much I still miss him.
Then I got ready to go out and experience the eclipse. I made sure I made no appointments on Monday afternoon as I was determined to see this eclipse. We were only going to have a partial experience, we were told. No matter, partial is likely quite different from no eclipse at all. Because I had not ordered glasses (by the time I decided I was excited about the eclipse, I couldn't buy the glasses anywhere), so I went to a local bar that offered glasses to those who attended. By the time I got to the bar, all glasses had been given out (it seems I was not alone in snagging glasses early). I was deflated.
"Would you like to take a look?" A very kind woman offered me a peek through the glasses she was holding out to me. She didn't have to ask me twice. I put the glasses on and I looked up.
Awestruck. Silenced. Reverent. That photo doesn't begin to communicate the moment. I got even luckier when an employee gave me a pair of glasses that I was able to hold onto for the rest of the afternoon, as I watched the moon move along until it was gone.
I think I may have a new obsession. I'm already checking calendars to see when I can do this again. This moment reminded me what wonder feels like. During many many moments of cynicism and frustration, this was such an aah moment.
