Our minds are amazing tools.
I just woke up from a nap thinking I was in the north of England, and I had to dress for dinner to meet my hosts downstairs.
Of course, none of that was true. I was in Barra de Navidad with palm-framed sunsets and Mexicans on wakeboards pulled by ski-doos. I would be hard-pressed to come up with two settings that were less alike.
Therefore, it was a bit jarring when I looked at my telephone and found a message from my friend Hilary in England. She would have been the hostess that I would have met for dinner in that Lancashire house with the staircase.
She was thanking me for a birthday card (postmarked 9 August in San Patricio) that had just arrived today in Thornton-Cleveleys.
Odd that. Waking up thinking about a place that has always had a special spot in memory -- and, for a brief moment, actually being there.
Maybe this is another of those blissful side effects of aging where the best moments of our lives reside in a glass darkly. Constant reminders that what our parents told us is true -- that everything does turn out well in the end. And we get to live them over and over as if our best experiences were trapped in a silver heaven of film that plays on reel after reel.
Or maybe I simply ate too much sugar before I took my nap.
Either way, it is a lovely Sunday evening, I have friends who think about me, and the world is filled with possibilities.
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