The Voyeur of New Year's Eve, or, The making of Shrimp Toast

The Voyeur.

This year, with Georgia being 7, I feel that we are making it official - our Shrimp Toast tradition for New Year's. I hope she likes it.
Maybe even Wylder might, after all it's just really good fried food, but you never can tell with kids .

The sticker box is busy,

she's open wide and the kids are picking out their choices to stick on to "Spy" tubes that Georgia made out of construction paper.

Ever so engrossed they are.
Momentary peace prevails as I watch them sprawled on the carpet, inventing and making rules as she goes along, Georgia, while Wylder must follow, "OK?" "OK"
It's New Year's Eve and I'm watching:
my home,
my Daniel
my Georgia,
My Wylder,
my thoughts.
Trying to find the spiritual lens to best capture it for myself.
Is this moment in time really happening - to me?
Should I feel like I've accomplished a lot this year?
It would be nice if I did, but I don't.
Just watching these two people on the carpet I'm in owe of life.
How it happens?
How little I actually have to do with it.
Really, I could not have invited two better souls into my life.
I would think so, of course - my beloveds.
But it's not as if I had any idea these were the hearts I would be getting.
I am feeling an intoxicating lethargy as I dedicate this day (didn't plan to) to watching my life through someone else's eyes.
Having started this blog this was my purpose.
Watch the days of my life unfold in a play written by someone . . . else.
Now - the flavors enhanced with curiosity - a voyeur's mesmerizing arrest - suddenly the daily dish thickens, layered with aroma.
How fascinating - all it needed was to be touched by a complete stranger - (watching) to gain all this depth.
And I discover, it is there - all the time.
Even in what I deem to be the grayest of days.
It is there!
Waiting to be watched.
In Georgia's fingers dancing on the piano as her dad sits on the arm of the sofa, next to her, instructing her.
In the purity of Wylder's body in a luscious bubble bath.

And wait. . . there's more, in the kitchen, soon, all of us making Shrimp Toast, our New Year's tradition.
Daniel and I toasting with a slim glass of Champagne,
My heart swells as I catch that glimmer in his dark eyes .
Georgia and Wylder participating witnesses - a moment - an imprint - a memory.
- my beloveds.

The making of Shrimp Toast - 2010