Contentment

Another conversation:

Person A: When we were in Paris, we went to the Louvre on a Tuesday. We really thought we’d beaten the crowds and were very pleased with ourselves. But then we realized the crowds were significantly wiser than us. The Louvre isn’t open on a Tuesday.

Person B: Perhaps you should have tried Vendredi.

Person A: (a slight challenge in the voice) What day is that, then?

Person B: Wednesday

Student of French: (at same time) Friday

Laughter all ’round.

Person B: Vendredi is the only day I don’t know.

The laughter gets louder.

An artist once said to me that often you don’t paint the lines you see, you paint the spaces between them. I feel like that is a good description of conversation between friends. The better you know your companions, the less the jokes are in the words and the more they are in air, the history, the memory that sits between the people.

Sitting around a table on a warm spring day with people I know well and care about deeply. Tummies full and soup pot empty. Flowers in the middle. Dogs sleeping in sun-drenched poses.

I love it.

One thought on “Contentment

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