Bright Spots

ulleo via Pixabay

Yesterday was a day of unexpected bright spots. After class, a conversation with a student about course material led into a discussion about theatre. Still smiling after he left, I walked out into the hallway and came face-to-face with a series of photographs taken by students. I stopped and took each one in, grateful for the room change that had led to my being in this place at this time. Across the hall from the photographs was another display of artwork and poetry. I stood there, hand sanitizer barely dry and still wearing my mask, drinking in the beauty of words and pictures that I hadn't even known I'd missed.

Then, yesterday afternoon, I raced into the doctor's office for a routine visit, running a little late because of unexpected road construction. There was a woman checking in at the window, which gave me a moment to catch my breath.

But it got better. 

When she turned around, I discovered that the woman was none other than a former colleague I hadn't seen in ages. In just a few minutes we managed to catch up on kids, empty nesting (or the lack thereof amid COVID) and close the gap of time as though it had never happened. When we got called back to our respective treatment rooms, we decided that a post-COVID lunch was long overdue.

I can't wait.

It's been a long year and, on many days, bright spots have been tough to come by. Stumbling across two of them on the same day felt like striking gold, and I'm incredibly grateful that I was present enough not to miss either of them. Each of them provided a spark -- a preview of the light at the end of the tunnel where theatre and art and lunches with friends are once again a regular part of life.

Coming soon, but not soon enough.