i am facing my husband.
my hand rests on his chest, over his heart, and he holds my hand in place with his own.
my skin is damp, and the breeze from the rainy weather outside is cooling and refreshing.
my heartbeats and my breaths are accelerated, but slowing,
and i hear the sounds of cars passing on the wet roads
and daniel’s soft almost-snores as he dozes
and I wonder yet again at how magnificently unlikely
and stunningly divine this scene is.
a baby boy is born in copenhagen in november 1979.
almost a year later in november 1980, a baby girl is born in melbourne.
they are not even learning to speak the same language,
and even if they did, international telephone calls are still an uncommon and expensive thing.
the technology that would one day evolve into the modern internet is at the same infant stage of development that the danish boy and australian girl are.
how could you see these two babies, and ever imagine that enough changes would happen in the world for them to find each other? for it to be relatively easy and cheap for them to communicate with each other daily, from home, and get to know each other well enough that they could fall in love?
for a lot of people, the marvels of modern technology are a cool development that provides a lot of opportunities to enrich their life. for us, the marvels of modern technology are but one of a series of events that were crucial for us to end up where we are, now.
to consider the relative probability that any of those events would happen — that all of people involved were in the right place at the right time with the right ideas and skills and resources — let alone that all of them did happen, seems like we have played a lottery with astronomical chances of success.. and won, an embarrassment of riches.
it makes me believe.
it’s not god in the christian sense, or even god in that i see it as a deity, discrete and apart from what we are.
but i can’t feel the beating of his heart and of my own heart and not believe that something, somewhere, guided us to each other.