Thursday, November 17, 2011
I know that good basketball players have to quickly forget the last missed shot, or they'll never make another one, so as I shed my rain jacket, I also try to mentally shed the disappointment I feel about my slower than I wanted to go 7.5 mile descent down Utah Hill and try to shake off that frustration in the cold wind. There are hills coming up and more descents as well, so I start looking forward to them and try to quickly forget about getting Jimmered by the wind for the last 15 or so minutes out of the how many ever I am going to spend getting through this Tri-States Gran Fondo.
On my last birthday my wife surprised me by making some from-scratch brownies from my Mom's old recipe, and I don't remember exactly, but it was probably 30 or more years since I have tasted them. There is not another brownie like them, and as they melted in my mouth, that little gesture from my wife was so appreciated - so unduplicable - so surprising - so a little bit of extra - and so wonderful. It made me feel as loved as I can feel loved. It was wonderful. It is something I will never forget. Lagniappe.
I wonder how it is that she seems to be becoming more like me as we age together. Or like a puzzle, I wonder if maybe I'm becoming more like her as that would probably be the better deal. We are different in a lot of ways but as the years go by we are becoming a lot more the same. I think about how we have the same values, even if mine are rougher around the edges than hers. I remember the way she touched my hand as she gave me the parking validation that day at the University of Utah thirteen years ago. That day I became her Minute Maid Man and we haven't looked back since. Lagniappe for sure.
I remember the countdown calendar she made for the kids so they could countdown the days until Daddy came home from traveling all over the country for weeks at a time trying to make a descent living. I remember the gingerbread houses she makes with the kids, the crafts, the gifts and all the thoughtfulness. If I were a cup, my wife would be like pouring a full cup of water into a full cup of water. She gives so much and asks so little in return and I wonder if I am guilty of not even giving that little that she does ask. I wonder if I put enough or as much effort into being a good father, husband and friend as I do into being a better cyclist? Thank goodness my wife is not a dripping faucet. That is lagniappe for me.
Posted by Steve Wilson