The light and the dark

Today we went to the birthday party for our best friends’ twin girls.

Last year, they were being born in one hospital as I was in another. Not that they missed me or anything, they were all of 2 hours old. But I missed that moment.

Today was bittersweet in a lot of ways. Of course, I tuned in for the 9/11 anniversary coverage first thing when I woke up. I read the newspaper. I thought about all of those born on this day 10 years ago. I thought about those who died on this day a decade ago. I thought about their families, and if they’ve found peace.

I thought about where I was 10 years ago. My, how life has changed — that was inevitable. But have I really changed? Maybe, but only as a reaction to external impetus. This stream of consciousness tends to take me to darker places, so I try not to dwell.

There’s something life-affirming about watching babies interact with the world. That wide-eyed wonder, the expressive faces, the nonverbal (and verbal) cues.

The party brought together family and friends. It was a beautiful, silly moment I did get to be a part of this time, watching these two tear into their smash cakes.

As days go, this one was light and dark. Like life itself, it takes going through the dark to make us appreciate the light all the more.