Yesterday I remembered the most perfect moment in my life and it made me happy and sad all in the same breath .

I was six years old the first time my father ever took me to Mount St. Benedict. He had bought a new vehicle and we (he, mom and I) went there to bless it. It was sweetly confusing for me - the journey up the side of the mountain, the curious popping of the ears due to pressure changes, the church that stood there and later that day, the haunting sounds of hymns that emanated from the Catholic church. It was intriguing, frightening and happy and I could not have been more ignorant of what was happening around me.

We drove to Mount St. Benedict at least once a year in any given year and many times, dad and I would go several times - because it was on the way to somewhere that was insignificant in the scheme of things. Years that helped me understand all of the things that confused me as a child. Years that taught me how simple my father was and how much I loved his simple ways. The winding roads were never long enough anymore and the ever-present anticipation of that serene destination cut it even shorter. The church was still huge and prominent, as it always seemed to me. Even the insides where we ventured forth on only two occasions were majestic and the long flowing robes of the priests were a source of both comfort and turmoil to me as an adolescent. The hymns kept only a little of their haunting edge and surrendered to a calm, reassuring melody that later became solace music to me. Nothing was frightening anymore - it was all beautiful.

There was a lag when I was about fifteen, because school became more important and dad was busy with work. It slipped into the corners of my mind and was forgotten.

I was eighteen years old the last time I went there with my dad. We were on the way to one of those insignificants, when I mentioned to him that it had been awhile since we had been to the Mount. He smiled and before I realized it we were on our way up there. It had seemed like more than only three years had passed .it seemed like ten. The memories didn't come back on that occasion. This was the experience of an eighteen year old and everything was a new feeling . a new crisp . a new turn . a new anticipation. The clouds never looked so huge and white and when I extended my hand outside the window, my hand was an inch away from touching the cotton like mass of air.

We never spoke on the journey up the side of the mountain and we didn't even break the silence when we got out of the van and walked around the churchyard. We just walked and walked, stopping several times to take in the view all the tiny buildings that stood below us. There's this ledge there that I will never forget the view from and the very site of it was nostalgic .taking me back to being six years old. This day though, when dad and I sat there - all we could see were clouds below us . an ocean of white clouds looking up at us, so thick that if you looked long enough you would think that if you fell off the side of the ledge, you would fall forever .

Dad hung his both legs off the side of the ledge and I sat on the ledge, with my legs parallel to the floor. It is so vivid in my head right now; I can almost taste the air. We just sat there, for what seemed like hours but which was in fact a half hour, and just stared and stared at the clouds below us - never breaking the silence that had followed us from the very ascent of the Mount. The moment was perfect and it seemed to be so timeless that nothing could change it. And then . the most beautiful chant bellowed from the church - a monk-like hymn that was just the most beautiful, most peaceful and most perfect melody that - that moment could have produced. And even though we both heard it, neither of us moved until it was finished. It was like we were transfixed in time .frozen in a capsule of timeless perfection.

I don't remember getting up or leaving there that day with my dad, but I do know that we didn't speak until much later after our descent from that other world . I remember thinking about that moment for weeks and then life got hectic again and it was once again pushed into the corners of my brain.

It was lost until today . but it is so clear, so real - it's like it happened yesterday, but it didn't - it happened well over eight years ago when life was different and simple.

What I would give to go back there .

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