It is 6:26 AM and I can see a fireball in the sky. You may know it as the sun. It blinds me as I drive toward it. Much like the feeling of falling in love – I am blinded, but I proceed forward anyway. I can barely see the road now. I hope that no one pulls out in front of me. As I look up at the sun, I recall the description of the light of death by those who have seen it, and lived to tell about it. It was not death I was driving toward today, but life. The bright sun over the horizon was a birth of a new day, but also a new life. As I continued driving forward, I knew that a new person inside me had been awakened. They were born today.
As I continued driving ahead slowly and cautiously, I wondered if the person born today could navigate the road ahead. There is a lot to learn. A lot of changes and no shortage of confusion. In love and life, I know I am not the best. I am not the smartest, prettiest or even the nicest. I see myself as Neapolitan ice cream – a nice combination but certainly not perfect in any way and sometimes the flavors get mixed up a bit. It seems that the visor is not blocking enough of the sun for me to see. Even if I can’t completely see the road ahead, it looks promising. Are there corners and roadblocks ahead? Sure, but at least I have Neapolitan ice cream to offer, which on a hot September day isn’t such a bad thing.