Tell us about times in which you linger — when you don’t want an event, or a day to end. What is it you love about these times? Why do you wish you could linger forever?
One of the best evenings of my life was pretty low-key, but kind of felt like stolen moments — a time to linger.
For background, we own a house in St. Andrews, Scotland and have for 28 years. For perhaps the last 6 years we have made it available to two charity auctions (not at the same time) and it has turned out to be a money-maker for those two organizations. The first year’s winners were a group of 6 men who were going to golf as much as possible in 7 days.
To my horror, the arrived a day early — my mistake, and I was just finishing up with the cleaning and bed making. They arrived and found me vacuuming and generally running around like a crazy woman in tatty clothes (who dresses up to clean?). I was so embarrassed that I had gotten the day wrong. They were gracious, and anxious to get out and wander to the Old Course, and get a feel for the town. They quickly left for a couple of hours, and I was able to complete the cleaning and making the place look as good as possible. I succeeded in finishing before they returned, packed up my stuff, and made a reservation at a bed and breakfast near the waterfront, a stone’s throw from the Old Course. I exited my house, checked in, and had this tremendous feeling of relief and accomplishment. I had the rest of the day and evening to myself to do as I pleased. First I just relaxed, then had dinner.
With the evenings still long, I walked around the rocky seafront, sat on a bench above the shoreline in a pretty park, and just admired the evening and enjoyed the ever-present sounds from flowing of the sea. I also took some pictures (not as good as the real thing except as reminders), and just generally basked in a sense of peace.
Willing the pleasant feeling to continue, even though an evening chill was setting in, I stopped in a small hotel bar still within view of the sea, and ordered a cup of hot chocolate (which came with complimentary shortbread). I sat in its little outside stone patio, and sipped in the sweet drink and sank into the moment. Well tired after a hectic day, and relaxed by my evening wanderings, I slept well and peacefully and, after a full Scottish breakfast, continued on my way and back to the bustle of trains, airports and a long flight home, grateful that I’d had the special me time to reflect and just be in the present.