And we start with Simon & Garfunkel singing Bookends while I silently sing along inside my head.
“Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, A time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They’re all that’s left you”
A good gardener is like that painter or sculptor too. They look at patches of dirt and understand that if they tend to their garden they can grow something beautiful there.
It may be dirt today but with some patience and some love you can turn weeds into flowers.
The original headline of this post was going to be Love Lost, Love Found & Innocence Lost but I changed my mind.
I got lost in memories of the past, thoughts of the present and ideas about the future.
I was looking for something and I stumbled across This Is Not My/Your Life and then I came across a post about my lucky shorts.
Someone told me I talk about my age an awful lot and I laughed and said it is true because I have a hard time believing I am as old as I am.
Old enough for friends to start asking if I have thought about what I want to do for my 60th birthday but young enough to look in the mirror and ask if it is really only four years away. I know I am not 25, but I am not 50 something either, I have to be in my forties or maybe late thirties.
You’re Kind Of Weird
Someone told me I am kind of weird and suggested I pay more attention to how I impact my reputation.
Someone else said weird was the wrong word and said I am more of a lone wolf and suggested I be more conscious of what people see because they might misunderstand me.
I smiled and said I didn’t care. I know how to be part of a group. I know how to be silent and just go along with things and I know how to be me.
I like being me better and I think the people that matter do too.
That is not a reference just to the proverbial group of people who are supposed to love me for being me.
It is not me talking about friends and family, but everyone who has gotten the chance to know me in whatever capacity that might refer to.
It reminded me of a recent conversation in which I stopped talking and didn’t bother to finish telling a story because the other person interrupted me a half dozen times.
They were certain they knew what I was going to say and what the point of my story would be. I don’t think they noticed because we were on the phone but had it been in person it would have been obvious.
The twinkle in my eyes would have disappeared and the smile on my face would have faded.
For a moment I considered saying the doc called back to tell me the pathology report on my liver wasn’t accurate just to see if they noticed but I realized that might have led to a longer conversation and I was no longer interested.
The Long Dance
Was thinking again about how we dance with some people and how it can go for decades with some and not even a day or two with others.
Some people can sit with you in silence and you never grow tired of them or feel worn out and others exhaust you.
There is a magic formula but what it is made of I cannot say. I only know it exists.
More I could say, but not here and not now.
****
I keep grabbing parts and pieces of things I have written and dropping them into the post because life is a patchwork of experiences that we weave together to create something more.
Or so we hope and sometimes so we learn but the answer to what is or isn’t sometimes doesn’t come when you expect.
You can’t always binge watch your life like a Netflix special no matter how badly you want to.
We opened doors that can’t be closed and created moments and memories that can’t ever be forgotten. Sure, we can list the reasons why they should and nurse the anger, aches, pains and disappointments that came with it all because that helps us pretend that once was is nothing more than memory.
Yet we find ourselves looking back as often as we look forward. We seek each other out because we won’t let go of the hope that the song that our hearts sing can once again be sung out loud. Some would say different and give in to doubt and distrust.
Others might categorize it not as love but as lust but that is only because they don’t get it. Never got it. Never will.
You have and you did. And if you opened your eyes and your heart the past would meet the present and the future would rejoice. There would be a song of celebration and your knees would be weak and your breath would be short, but your smile would be big and your heart would be full.
We don’t have to refer to us as “we were” because really we still “are” and the only question that remains to be answered is “what.”
There is an empty hand waiting for someone to take it.
There were moments when he looked at the present, thought about the future and wondered if the moments of the past that he thought influenced the present were other than he had thought they were.
Moments where he wondered if he had a bad case of denial and asked himself what sort of effect that would have upon things. Moments where he looked in the mirror and asked himself to prove that memory wasn’t affected by desire.
And then in the strangest of ways he felt like he got confirmation from a fictional hero, a movie character.
He played the words back in his mind, “It is true, all of it.”
It unlocked a flood of memories of good and bad moments and he didn’t just remember, he knew without a doubt that he was correct.
And then it didn’t matter what happened because he knew that he was on the correct course. Didn’t care whether anyone agreed or disagreed, whether they thought it was hokey or cliche because he was certain.
Didn’t mean that things would work out in any sort of fashion that resembled hopes or dreams but he was ok because he knew that he was following the right path and that was enough.
At the end of the day, when the lights go out and you are left with nothing but your thoughts and dreams, when you dive deep into your mind you have to have that.
That knowledge you did what you did because you were true and honest to yourself and with yourself. Understanding that you are an imperfect being, perhaps chasing perfection but imperfect and fallible.
Each day trying to do better than before with the knowledge that life is never black and white. When you have that sense of self and you know that you are on your path you can always get back up and keep doing.
Because “It is true, all of it.”
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