And miss it I almost did despite reading a friend's Facebook status with the above beloved Great Gatsby gem.
I am Daisy in ways, waiting and waiting and then getting distracted and missing what I'd so anticipated.
Today was no different.
No sooner than I had realized it was the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year drenching us with the glorious sunshine I crave from autumn until spring, I had forgotten in the thickness of busy.
The day began spiraling and circling and spinning and doing the things that days do when a business needs immediate attention and there is Bible study to attend and kitchens beg for a wet mop and children need things like lunch and hugs and mommy hands to find the missing green light saber.
After an impromptu shift at our business, I arrived home, made myself a hap-hazard dinner of green smoothie and perched myself in one of the big blue chairs in the back yard.
John arrived home with the boys a few minutes later and before I could say the word bed time, E was out the back patio door and swimming in the pool while G was off and picking berries from the bushes along the fence with his dad.
Sun still bright, hanging in the horizon, I checked the time -- 8:15 p.m., bedtime -- and I remembered the long-awaited summer solstice.
And so we ignored the clock and remained in the backyard, enjoying the extra moments of added daylight
because they do what everything in life seeming does:
they all too quickly fade into the mental noise
But last night -- those moments were lived in fullness.