Memory of a Special Day

As I was laying in bed listening to my husband play his new video game, a memory came to me. I don't know why.

It was the beginning of my first year of grad school and some of the younger grad students had decided to throw a “let's get to know each other party”. It happened to coincide with my birthday, and even though none of them really knew me yet, they were kind enough to buy a Boston cream pie and stick candles in it for me to blow out. At some point later in the party, one of the others came in from outside and urged the rest of us to come look at the sky. We all wandered outside to see what was going on.

It was chain lightning behaving in a most unusual manner. It wasn't raining and the lightening was far enough away not to be any threat, so we all sat on or leaned against cars and watched the light show.

I sat on someone's bumper drinking a glass of sweet, sort of vanilla tasting sherry, surrounded by potential friends, and watched the lightning dance from cloud to cloud, chasing itself through the sky. You would think that lightning would be loud and frightening, but for some reason there was no thunder, and I remember it being one of the most fascinating things I'd ever seen. It was very peaceful in a way. Reassuring sort of. Like watching children playing. With all of the chaos, there was still a sense of joy.

All that massive, potentially deadly energy performing a heavenly ballet just for me. For my birthday. It made me feel very special.