What are the moments that changed everything? The things that, when you relate them in story are preceded by an ominous “and then it happened.” The happenings that don’t hit your plan off course but rebound a new one into existence. What are the flashbang moments that caste everything in back-lit relief?
If you could shave the whole of your experience to a flash-bulb beginning – what would it be? Not the birth of a child, or the passion-underscored conception of it, but the fleeting first glance, the hesitant first kiss, or the initial dawning of daydreaming love.
Mine would be this: a sticky summer night where flag-football practice gave way to the blue-eyed brunette on the sidelines. My friend Dustin called the brunette for himself, and I nodded with zero intention of agreeing. She was mine. Several months later, in a dorm room kitchen over creamy EZ-Mac, I told that brunette that I was falling in love with her. Four years later, on the banks of the Ohio River, I slipped a ring on her finger and told her that I would love her forever. Five years later, I love her more than I did then. My life is cast with a Dana backdrop that enhances and improves each part of it. I would have it no other way.
