Then I did.
30 and upwards. Life just kept happening. Sleeping wakening, new day after new day. Clinging to the edge of the cliff with fingernails. Hearing those same finger nails crating on the chalkboard as I slid through the day.
All those times I feared I’d not make it through the day or that catastrophe would strike within days or weeks. Well it didn’t. There were good times and bad times and somehow I just kept on going to bed and getting up.
Losses, gains, losses and then some more losses. Deaths of family. Deaths of friends. Divorces and the horror of the divorces with the feeding frenzy of lawyers and bankers and the demands to be well to face the next bureaucratic orgiastic frenzy of humiliation and debasement. But even them, with all their betrayal and that sense of shame and loss and betrayal and abortion and cuckolding and lies and lies and more lies and more lies. Well that too passed. Physical assaults by women. Fights with men .Sexual assaults. Rape. God it all came and went. Beating Knifes at the throat. Car Crashes. Truck crashes. Home invasions. Guns in the face. Shots repeatedly at you. Running with bullets whizzing. Arms held behind your back. Always there seemed there were too many. The women switching teams for safety. Who can blame them. And seeing yourself be less than what you’d hoped. Walking away. Overwhelmed. Not staying. Not tolerating. Standing up and saying what is right and rescuing the beaten and down trodden only to be targeted in diabolical ways. The enemy is always a nest.
Locked up. Billy clubbed in hand cuffs. You’ve had a rare existence and this too passed. And all the time you sat in cells with ugly little men and women with too much power and petty little sex organs you thought it was over and it wasn’t. The big clanging door opened and closed and you walked out and loved the sun.
And every valley you knew where you prayed, Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil’,. There was a mountain to be climbed and you did. You stood above the clouds and laughed at the beauty. You stood on the little boat with not a soul around for hundreds of miles. You bicycled in the mountains. Skied forever black diamond. Swam across summer lakes. You lay on the side of the road in a ditch with a tarp wondering if the morning would come. You sat in the wee hours of a pup tent on asphalt beside a motorcycle wondering what that sound was. In the deepest woods you listened to the snuffling ruffling of a very big bear holding a very little knife wondering when he would attack. In an igloo you knew another bear was outside. In the morning the tracks confirmed your fear but you weren’t eaten. You passed through another day. And got older and older and older and now you’re sometimes quite shocked that you’re still here and it’s more likely you’re just pass away with a shelf life expired. And always you were not alone. Always were surrounded by an unseen force, protected by prayers, comforted.
It’s been a good romp. All the ups and downs made the ups particularly appealing. God, the lovers were something. To precious. Too special. Candlelight and fragrances. Sweaty naked bodies. To know those embraces. To love. Ah, life is good, like chocolate.
To see a dog shaking all over when you come through the door. To feel a cat rub by you purring, the most you could expect. To hear from a friend from high school. To wave at a face in a crowd. To see the familiar.
To watch the dolphins cresting before the bow. To see the whales breaching so close beside you you could touch them. To listen to the eagles at their nest on the lone tree near the mountain top. To watch the otter on the dock, the beaver busy gnawing the wood.
To hear the pounding sound and see the blur of the blue grouse in the fir and pine. To watch the salmon swimming upstream in the creek. To swim with sharks and whales. To scuba dive at night when the monsters are really out and the beauty and lights are beyond incredible. To lie in the morning smelling her and wondering how can something not apple pie smell so sweet and adorable. To laugh at the jokes of old friends especially the really old friends with more wisdom and experience and no tolerance for the arrogance of tyrants. To laugh in sympathy and surety that we have been through the same inner experience. Talking of God and other intangibles in whispers around camp fires. There are scars and without scars you don’t get into heaven. And pains to remind one of good times. The plane crashes, the car crashes, the motorcycle crashes, the terrorist bombs.
You walked away. Each day till today you’ve won life’s lottery. You’ve spun the wheel and arrived at a new day. Perhaps today will be the same. It’s likely. You’re a winner. God loves you. God loves me. I am loved as I love. I am blessed in life and in dreams.
Really even if they don’t give me my own personal space ship with multiple thrusters and a modular global home with an incredible view and hot tub and pool and deck and sunken living room and fireplace anywhere I want in the world, with an unlimited bank account, I’ve had this time and the time has been precious and more valuable than all else, but love. To have love I must give it way. Ironic, eh. . I love time and hope to make the most of it today.
Thank you, Love.
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