I'm sure most people have heard the beautiful saying, "Life is not measured by the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away." I have had many of those kinds of moments and I'd like to share a couple of them with you.
As a young bride, I loved to impress my new husband with my culinary skills. After spending the entire day preparing chili "like his aunt made," I waited anxiously for him to return home from work. Everything was ready, table was set, napkins and silverware in place ready for my wonderful man to eat. As we began, my husband took his napkin and tried artfully to dab the grease off the top of the chili in his bowl. Time stopped. I picked up his bowl, walked to the stove, poured the chili back into the pot; walked the pot to the bathroom and threw the entire pot of chili into the toilet.
Then it happened: "The Moment." The toilet began to bubble, and up came the chili out of the toilet and onto the floor. The sight stopped my breath immediately. Apparently the toilet didn't like my chili, either.
There was another moment. We had a 10-gallon tank of beautiful, expensive, fancy guppies. Did I say had? After a heated discussion with my husband concerning whose job it was to clean the fish tank, I disconnected the filter and air stone and again proceeded to the bathroom.
Into the toilet I poured the water with the fish -- stupidly thinking the fish would remain in the bowl, where I could scoop them out. As I watched our guppies disappear into the sewer system, I experienced another moment that took my breath away. Oxygen tank anyone?
(I really did think the fish would remain happily swimming in the bowl.)
Now when we drive past the Buffalo Small Boat Harbor, I fear for the fishermen who someday may hook a killer fancy guppy and it will be my fault. The fact that we remain happily married is proof positive that miracles do happen in today's world. All my special moments did not take place in our bathroom, although there were more bathroom incidents.
I had just started a new job and was responsible for sending about 20 to 30 medical claims to the printer in the next room. I confidently set my computer to begin processing the work when my co-worker in the next room frantically began yelling for help. I ran to her aid only to see not 30 claims printing but 300 claims or more shooting out of the printer. My boss came running and tried everything to stop the computer from sending claims to the printer. She finally pulled the plug, disconnecting the printer and my computer. The moment took my breath away and almost my job. (By the way, I'm still working for that very company.)
Recently my husband and I leased a new Nissan, which I named Serena. I always name my vehicles after my guardian angels; I don't want to take any chances.
Nathan, our awesome salesman, also showed us a beautiful red Nissan Rogue, and no I didn't flush it down the toilet or drive it into the bathroom, at least not yet.
A couple of weeks after we leased our vehicle, a small box wrapped in brown paper arrived at our house. My husband refused to remove it from the mailbox until I came home because he was sure I did something to warrant receiving a smoke bomb from someone. I bravely took the package out of the mailbox and noticed it was from Nathan.
I opened the box and to my surprise there was a large, fresh cayenne pepper with a note hoping I was enjoying my new car. Why a cayenne pepper, you ask? The color of my car is Cayenne RED. Yes, this moment took both of our breaths away as my husband and I enjoyed the pepper in a great bowl of greaseless chili.
Everyone has had moments like these. Moments like these should also be enjoyed and treasured because that is what "Life is made of."