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For two days in a row she found herself sitting at a red light. When it turned green, before putting her foot on the gas to pull out into the intersection, she counted to three.

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On each of those two occasions another motorist, in an SUV, ran a red light and sped through the intersection, barely missing her. Had my best friend of more than 45 years pulled out before counting to three, the results could have been terrible. Or worse.

It was her dad who taught her to always count to three after the light turned green and before pulling into the intersection. He knew that while green might mean go, there was wisdom in waiting. To allow a sliver of time in which to more fully assess the situation before pulling ahead.

Life is full of green lights. What was not a possibility until now suddenly is, and we are given the green light. When it does, there is wisdom in waiting, just long enough to allow a sliver of time in which to more fully assess the situation before pulling ahead.

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(With gratitude to Phil Patterson for teaching her to count to three, and to Kristine Patterson for always counting.)

Photo by Davis Sanchez from Pexels

The Parking Space

You know those people who always find a parking space right when and where they need it?? I know. Right?!

I’m one of them.

When we first got married I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why Tom always took the first parking spot he found, even if it was in the last space in the last row in the last outskirts of the parking lot. Not that this approach is all bad. It assures us of a spot, gives us a little more exercise, and is usually closer to the exit when it’s time to leave.

However.

It didn’t occur to him that a better spot would show up, and being the easy, laidback guy that I love, he was good with that. I wasn’t. It didn’t occur to me that a better spot wouldn’t show up. Case in point. Last Saturday we had to head in to Hood River to pick up food from the caterer for an event later that day. Weekends in our bustling little tourist mecca start to heat up this time of year, and parking spaces can be hard to come by. Unless you’re me. About a half an hour before it was time to pick up the food, we were sitting in a shady spot having a little lunch and Tom mentioned that it might be virtually impossible to find a parking spot near, much less in front of Boda’s Kitchen on a busy Saturday, especially since they are located in the heart of downtown. He would drop me off and then drive around the block while I ran in to pick things up.

First of all, this would make things challenging as there were going to be multiple large trays to bring out. And second of all, after 25 years together, let’s have a little more faith here.

Heading up the hill we could see Boda’s, and the parking spaces in front were taken. He looked a tiny bit smug.

Oh ye of little faith.

Just as we drove over the cross street before Boda’s, the car smack-dab in front of the entrance pulled out, and just like that, we slid in, I retrieved our order, and in short order, we were on our way.

This kind of thing has happened more times than I can count, and I’m not quite sure what it means, except maybe the faith that we will have what we need when and where we need it.

As we pulled out of the parking space I tried not to act too smug, because we all know what cometh before a fall.

No Regrets

We’re just back from what will likely be our last snowshoe excursion for the year. Temperatures are rising, the snow is melting, and the conditions that have made it possible to head out every morning for the past couple of weeks are fast disappearing. While I’ll miss the daily treks out across the snow, I won’t miss the regret I’d feel had I missed the chance to head out when I had it.

Snowshoeing out my back door was but one opportunity not to be missed, and it is my sense that we are surrounded by possibilities large and small waiting for us to take advantage of them. Whether the chance to repair a relationship, have a conversation, embark on an adventure, learn to play the piano, connect with a friend, capture a photo, or strap on some snowshoes and head out the door, the chance to do it is now.

Regret is a tough one, and it usually follows a missed opportunity.

Let’s not miss it.