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  • Seeing Through the Fog


    When I look out my window on a misty day like today, I know beneath the white haze of fog’s smothering embrace is a valley, a bay, a bridge… a city of hope. I know it’s there. But on days like today I see none of that… I see something more.

    Remember when we went to the Grand Canyon? We were so excited after all that driving to see what was sure to be awe-inspiring. On the drizzly ride up there I’m sure we both suspected, but we never let ourselves despair. Instead we continued, knowing that whatever is there, we will see it. It will be as it is.

    When we arrived at the edge and stared into that boundless white wall, our buried doubts came out in swells of laughter. We shared in a reality that was not what either of us had hoped. But for that it somehow had more meaning. I was happy, truly. The fog showed me that it didn’t matter whether I saw the Grand Canyon. What mattered was that I was there, with my mother, laughing.

    Now when I look out on this fog I don’t see nothing. I see you and me at the Grand Canyon. I see our freezing trip across the Golden Gate bridge. I see my fellow adventurer with socks on her hands and a purse on her head. I see my amazing mother looking at me like she just adores me. And I feel a love so deep and so true that I forget I’m in San Francisco. Wherever I am, I am home.


    Theme: Esquire by Matthew Buchanan.