A cookie and a cuppa

Sometimes, every once in a while, there are moments of utter perfection to be had. I haven't had one in a long time - maybe not since Thomas died, as a matter of fact. Or at least if I have had them, I haven't recognized them as such.

Anyway, the point is I'd forgotten how wonderful they are. But I remembered when I had one this evening.

Night is falling so much quicker these days, and while generally the darkness leaves me feeling slightly claustrophobic and a little unnerved, tonight, for some reason, it felt kind of cozy. Eventually, anyway.

My beloved and I had just settled in to watch a little TV after saying goodbye to my sister who'd spent the afternoon with us. I think we were both feeling a bit bothered by a special on Terry Fox that we'd all been watching and we were hunting for something that would erase the dull sense of dread that watching TV shows about a disease that kills randomly and unexpectedly can induce.

I should clarify that Terry Fox doesn't bother me - he is a true Canadian hero and 25 years after his death I'm still awed by his spirit and his achievements, both in his lifetime and after it. It's cancer that gives me the creeps. I'm terrified that I'll get it, or another person I love will get it.

Anyway, the point is we were both feeling unsettled and needed something to take the edge off. We found it in a show called The Most Outrageous Moments on TV. Or a "bloops" show, as My Beloved always calls them. "Bloops" is his short form for "bloopers", and every time there's a bloopers show of any kind on, he calls out to a non-existent Bubbe, "Gramma, Bloops is on!", which of course always makes me laugh. I don't know what I'd do without the comforting ritual of his familiar jokes. I don't know what I'd do without him, for that matter.

Anyway, a few minutes into Bloops I made tea and pulled out the chocolate chip cookies we'd picked up at the bakery this afternoon. The moment of perfection came as I snuggled back into the couch with a cookie in one hand, a hot cup of tea in the other and My Beloved across the room striking a similar pose. I guess knowing he was there and that we were safely in for the night, happily erasing all thoughts of cancer from our minds by watching reporters get nuzzled in inappropriate places by large animals, was all the comfort I needed. And that's when I felt that feeling of sheer bliss and prefect contentment.

I've missed that. It was fleeting but it was wonderful while it lasted.

Funny thing. My Beloved just managed to create a second moment of perfection for me. He's cleaning the office up while I'm writing, and we both just stopped to discuss which box of his comics I should save in the event of fire. He was actually only kidding (sort of) but when I took him seriously, that look of love that makes me melt flashed across his face and he started to stroke my hair. We continued to talk about his comics, but feeling the gentleness and love in his touch as we talked gave me that same feeling of security and contentment as the cookie, tea and bloops had earlier.

Twice in one day amidst our unending sorrow. I am lucky.