Lori writes, "Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between." Mine was momentous. And it was ordinary. It was as ordinary as a hug. In fact, it was a hug. A simple hug between two close relatives. But it was momentous because it was an embrace between two people who never expected to meet.
I met my biological father yesterday for the first time ever. I am 45 years old. I was nervous, and part of my nervousness was caused by wondering how we would greet each other. Would we hug? Would we stand there awkwardly wondering if we should hug? Would I make a joke about forgetting to check the adoption reunion handbook to see how we should greet each other? How does one greet a parent who is also a stranger? How do you bridge 45 years of separation?
Here's how you do it: You open your arms. You don't question. You move without hesitation into what seems the most natural expression of the moment because it is the most natural expression of the moment.
I'm not expecting this to be our only meeting. We both seem interested in continuing to get to know each other. But regardless of where we end up, the moment of our first meeting will always be, for me, a perfect island in time -- a moment in which everything was exactly as it should be and neither the past nor the future held any sway.