Faraway (So Close)

Sometimes, something is so close, you can’t see anything at all.

Like the arrow between the E and the X in Fed Ex. See it now?

I’m not entirely sure how that applies to this post, but it seems to make sense.

Like, how, sometimes everything’s fine, really good even, but the Big Drama overtakes everything? Well, I’m overriding the Big Drama, and acknowledging that — subzero temperatures notwithstanding — all’s well. Really good even.

Example (maybe): My best friend from ten-years-old, Sibby Browne, is in town for the weekend (good choice of weekends, huh?). My brother has long called him “The Third Wagner Brother.” Another old friend, Jen Carney, came over for a drink before striking out for dinner. As we rounded Tenth Avenue, we ran into my brother Christofer who, because of the weather, was walking home (a rare occurrence for this avid biker). Had Jen arrived earlier, we’d have missed him. He we taken one minute longer putting on our coats, we’d have missed him. Had it not been snowing, and he’d ridden his bike, we’d have missed him. But we didn’t miss him. We roped him into a drink, and the Wagner Brothers were truly together. Outside the bar was a whitewash of snowflakes and wind. Inside was a whirlwind of laughter and nostalgia.

Faraway, or so close, it was a good thing.