A golden glimmer of hope

Like a disco ball at the skating rink, I know it’s tacky, but it’s still just so pretty, I can’t stop looking. There’s a speck of glitter embedded in my living room rug, left over from Christmas, and for some weird reason, I love it. 

As I swish around the house at night cutting off the lights, there it is. At the end of the sofa, in front of the fireplace, glimmering gold. Always too tired to mess with it at night, I make a mental note to deal with it later, yet when I return to search during daylight hours, discover it’s no longer visible.

Days, weeks and now months of trying to free the one speck of glitter have proven useless, because every night, in the perfectly lit beam of the lamp, there it is. Still a reminder of December days and tidings of comfort and joy that seem a million years ago. 

The COVID-19 virus and agitated world in which we live is surreal and filled with so many sick, angry, sad and lonely people. We’re cut-off from those we love and even though we may not be officially depressed, we’re taking on the qualities of those who are overwhelmed with sadness. Overeating, oversleeping and a heavy hearts are the result of weddings that have been cancelled and funerals postponed. Family reunions are on hold, we can’t cuddle new babies and who knows what will happen with schools this fall?

That exact spot on the rug has been vacuumed 5,000 times by my staff (my son who is home from college), and yet, the miniscule sparkle appears again every night. I feel the festive speck has exhibited such deep determination to cling to our family that it deserves a place of honor and should be allowed to remain. 

The true reason I don’t get up right now and go on a full search-and-destroy mission for the glitter is really because that microscopic gleam of gold actually makes me happy. It’s a reminder of the peace and fun we shared last December and maybe even a literal glimmer of hope for a normal holiday season yet to come. 

If one spot of glitter on my rug gives me a split second to remember the last time the world felt orderly and we were all together celebrating, then it’s okay with me to leave it there.  Probably shaken from the Christmas tree while I was packing away the ornaments while watching bowl games and finishing off the last of the Christmas cookies, it’s a nightly reminder that things were once normal, happy and sparkly. 

Here we are at the beginning of hurricane season, and I’m finding comfort in a single speck of leftover Christmas glitter. It’s getting warmer and muggier outside, and the humidity is already thick, and yet there, on the rug, if I tip my head just right and squint my eyes as I reach for the lamp, there is the most glorious happy sparkle that somehow links me to a time when everyone was home, no one was sick, our businesses were booming and there were glittery ornaments on the tree. 

This story was first on AL.com and in their newspapers, The Mobile Press-Register, The Birmingham News and The Huntsville Times.