Coffee and Pie

The three of us sat there eating our coffee and pie of choice, in expired dress clothes, having the conversations we've always had. About hunting and home and places far away. It's cliche, but I remember wishing I could simply stop time as we asked the waitress when we would have to "spring" the clocks forward, robbing us of an entire hour. It wasn't the place. The restaurant was small and cramped, and cigarette smoke from the neighboring bar wafted through to the dining room. It wasn't the food. The pie was good, and the coffee was okay. It was the three of us. That's what made it special. That's what made me pause, and catch my breath and wish that I could remember every word and moment for always. So often we live life without realizing its perfect moments. But not this time. As I sat there, listening to the two of you talk, waiting to chime in, I smiled and knew that this moment, these few minutes of time together, were perfect.