1,000 Million Dollar Moments

I was standing in line at the grocery store for what felt like forever. I don’t understand why whenever I go to the store there are 23 closed lanes and only 3 open lanes. I leaned on the edge of my cart, my eyes scanning the magazine covers. Rachel Ray’s latest recipes. Oprah’s latest diet. The most recent bachelor breakup (is anyone really surprised, seriously?). The Hills stars’ recent surgeries and botchups and breakups. As I stared at the mind-numbing celebrity tidbits that mean absolutely nothing and are mostly absurd, I wondered why in the world we are so obsessed with celebrity lives, and more recently, our fascination with reality stars. Is there a deep dissatisfaction with our everyday lives that causes us to want to live vicariously through other’s beach bodies and exotic getaways? Do our lives seem somehow less miserable when we realize the celebrity’s life isn’t perfect either?

Finally, it was my turn to check out and leave the muck behind, but the questions lingered. I tried to answer the question for myself – is there something about my own life, some boredom that makes me wish my life were grander or more exotic? The answer was a decided no.

The next day the kids and I picked blueberries in the rain with my sister-in-law and her kids. As we laughed at our  silliness, I regretted leaving my camera in the car, because I wanted to remember the moment forever. I wanted to remember our 5 year old, 3 year olds and almost 2 year old with dripping hair in the warm summer rain carrying buckets full of bluberries. I wanted to remember my sister-in-law’s grinning face with hair dripping down the sides and her round pregnant belly underneath her turquoise raincoat. I wanted to remember my daughter and her 3-year-old cousin standing under a pink Dora umbrella laughing and munching big bright blueberries. I wanted to remember T-Rex determined to fill a bucket with berries all by himself. I wanted to remember my 18-month-old niece sitting down in the mud. These were every-day-moments that I knew would get lost in my memory if I didn’t capture them somehow.

Then I realized I had my answer to my earlier questions. I simply forget. I forget these everyday moments that are beautiful and full of life. I forget the vibrancy that is marriage and raising kids and taking care of a home. I forget the laughter once it’s over and tend to just remember the big highlights or the big lowlights. But this is what life is made up of – millions of moments with the people I love that I wouldn’t trade for a million dollars or any amount of fame or success or celebrity.

I decided to start a chronicle of these million dollar moments. I plan to blog 1,000 of them. Blueberry picking in the rain was #1. Hopefully in the process, you’ll recognize your own million dollar moments and remember how rich your life is day in and day out.