Wake up rays of happy Sunday sunshine will soon and suddenly cause the inky blackness cloaking my small room to disappear into the place darkness goes or simply ceases to exist in the presence of light. My mind is stuck on pause from hours earlier picturing the table set up by the dance floor at my favorite neighborhood jukebox hangout. Select framed photos, familiar cowboy hat and boots. Glass vase full of assorted fresh white flowers as a memorial to help us say goodbye to a dear friend.
Lots of familiar, friendly folks and lonely, thirsty travelers passing by meet here daily with reasonable expectations of being around this time next year. Maybe yes, maybe no. Death is unpredictable and oh so final.
The spot at the end of the naturally stained tree trunk bar was puzzlingly empty for a little too long prompting a search for its occupant earlier this month. Some friends found his body at home. His spirit having moved on the day before. I hope the passing from this life to the next was peaceful and painless.
I remember the first time the tall handsome, blue eyed cowboy spoke to me. I had been divorced a few years and this was my first time venturing out by myself, determined to meet new people. It was mid afternoon and it took all my courage to open that door. More than my eyes needing to adjust, anxiety, sorta akin to stage fright caused everything to be a blur and I wanted to bolt. Until thru tunnel vision I focused on the looming presence across the concrete floor. He looked right at me with a big country smile and said "Come on in, we don't bite. Unless your into that kind of thing". I super duper appreciated him that day and as time passed even more so a few others.(stories for another time) Quick witted, always respectful and a truly authentic person. What you saw is what you got an attribute too rare these days.
I tune out the karyoke singer and tarry by the table. Running my fingers along the brim of his hat hoping to feel some part of his essence left behind. Something to fill the empty hollow space. This place does not feel the same. This place will not be the same. Last night it was filled with friends and family all trying to cope. Kindred spirits united in our sorrow, our loss of acquaintance, neighbor, friend, family, love. I wonder if Mike would be surprised at all the fuss? He was just a humble man with a good heart doing the best he could and we all felt it. Funny the difference one good heart can make. It matters not what we think of ourselves, our imperfections, regrets, good intentions matter not in the end. Only how we make others feel in our presence.
You see, it is not how much we love but how much we are loved..
"Weeping may last through the night but joy cometh in the morning " Psalm 30:5
Life is unpredictable and so very precious.
There is a new baby on the way I heard the other day. As it should be.
On and on and so it goes. kisses
