Day 70 of 365 ( I will be all right some bright day)

Life is joy. Well at least sometimes I think it is. On other occasions I wonder why I opt to fight on so unceasingly. I let the background music catch my attention.

All of my life my days have moved quickly from morning unto night. The hours flew by as I wandered about in my silent sideline kind of style. Standing still now for a mere moment, I catch a glimpse of the things of my life that are flying by. Glimmers of youth, of progress, of missed opportunities they are all part of the parade that goes by.

Day turning into night, night flying by and day turning into night again, the cycle is immutable. I am confounded by time’s passing. Moments of beauty have come and gone. Some linger and some don’t.

I hear an acoustic guitar strumming and then I am looking for you in a small café in the harsh winter of 75-76. I can almost smell the mulled wine in the overly warm bistro air but breathing it all in feels alright.

After a moment I become aware of the voices that bubble underneath the artist that is singing his oh so earnest folk song on stage. Cigarettes are burning low and the lights are muted. The singer stops and steps down. Grabbing a beer he sits down at a table and begins conversing animatedly with two women.

An old song comes on over the PA. Ian Matthews is singing “Woodstock” in that soft gentle way that propelled him to the top of the charts for a week or two in 1972. Yeah, utopian visions are so attractive to the young. Can I walk beside you as we head to the garden?

I keep moving through the café’ until I see you. I smile and you smile back. You flip your hair to the side.

These are days that will matter although I don’t know it yet. The failures of my life have not begun to mount up yet and the victories are changing me for the better. My harshest edges are wearing away.

The song is ended. I am back in the now. My times of running down along the shore are gone. My times of strolling along the river’s edge are gone. I am okay for today, this day.

In reality this is the early morning following a marathon session of my school board. Once again the same battles are being waged as to whether to close one particular school versus another. The battle is wearing. The battle is unceasing. It just goes on and on. I am tired.

I should have listened to that song that says, “You better bring your own redemption to the barricades of heaven when you come.” What I would give for one more night in that bistro. Life is a joy and with a few more bars of the song I will be grounded once again.