EVEN IF I SPILL IT

  This life can be capricious and fickle like a moody lover but last night’s sleep was sound and the wake-up; what can I say! I didn’t want to get up from it but then again I did. With such a good start I figure, it’s going to get better. I don’t have a lot to share other than the good feeling. The mug is heavy-heavy by itself with a typical Mark Twain quote about procrastination molded into the sidewall. Full to the lip with French Vanilla coffee, even if I spill it, it smells good. 

I haven’t turned on the radio or read the headlines yet so I don’t know today’s bad news. I am still coming down off of Twain’s quote: “Don’t put off until tomorrow what can be put off until day after tomorrow.” It is clever but it can backfire and I am a ‘Backfire’ veteran. I can’t change the bad news but I can feel good about the good feeling. Without religion to fall back on I feel good about anything that doesn’t hurt. 

Yesterday was Memorial Day but I skipped the patriotic hoopla and passed on going to the cemetery. For a long time I have gone to funeral services but stayed away from cemeteries. I realized that the internment itself is a ritual for survivors to formalize closure and at a much deeper level, to address and mourn their own mortality. I didn’t want any part of that custom but old age has a way of softening us to the melancholy and hardening us against the comfort of denial. 

I went to my parent’s graveside last year and discovered an emotional thing that I had not expected. I tend to be a skeptic but I can and do change, depending on how feelings weigh in against what I think I believe. The passage of time doesn’t diminish the connection, just that more timely things push their way to the front. That bittersweet was mostly sweet, remembering and being thankful that the  fruit of their labor turned out to be me and that they lived well. I must concede that I took some comfort knowing their bones are next to each other and will remain there for a long, long time; until the next Ice Age comes through and scowers this manicured park side down to bedrock. That would be my idea of resurrection. Yesterday my son stopped by instead and we took comfort in each other’s good company. 

Today is a new day and I have high expectations. I have a road trip coming up in July and the idea that I have no appointed day to return is uplifting. I could stay away until school starts in August or even Labor Day weekend. I have several friends and family who will harvest tomatoes and tend the lawn. I’ll post this piece on my ‘Stones’ blog this evening. With only a few followers there is no pressure to publish (that’s funny) but if I go too long without making some noise someone wants to know why not. I would say, “Relax and enjoy, the weather is here and I wish we were beautiful.”