Me as a happy apple.
A happy apple.
Earlier this year, self portrait tuesday's challenge was "all of me," and in one post that month, I shared that my left eye has Duanes Retraction Syndrome. I also shared that my parents taught me to turn my head using a fisher price red apple. I haven't really spoken much about my eye over the years, but writing this and sharing my story here has invited me to think about it a bit more. And to think about the red apple and how it may have saved me in some ways.
On Saturday, Jon and I spent the day with Lynn and her husband. That evening, we had dinner at their home. And when I walked in to Lynn's kitchen, what did I spy?
I spied the red apple. The Happy Apple.
It seems that Lynn bought the Happy Apple when she worked in an antique store. And it decorates her kitchen now.
So she let me borrow it for a bit, to rekindle my relationship with it. When you pick it up, it makes a delightful sound, kind of like chimes, kind of like a music box. I had forgotten this. But as I have listened over these last few days, my memories have begun to twirl around in my head. And I have created the Happy Apple Dance. A little yoga meets belly dancing meets ballet.
I love the way your life can go in a certain direction sometimes, and then one little shift in the path intersects your journey with someone else's. It is pure delight.