Thirty-six, you’ve been the longest days but the shortest year of my life. I’m delayed on writing this because I’m still not to terms with the fact that you’re over.
…you ran right over me…middle fingers up.
Even at my first delayed attempt at a summation, you stopped me dead in my tracks. All I wanted from the world was a MINUTE. Just me, myself, and a Malbec…but oh no… YOU sat me right beside Chatty Cathy who was of course longing for the day that her 19 YO that’s gone sideways could be 5 again. As we compared lives…with tears in her eyes…I reluctantly let go of my plan for the night. I was as passive aggressive as my lack in that skill could allow. You taught me well, I just listened.
Needless to say…she was a wonderful lady…going through a lot. It was pure serendipity.
Yet, in all honesty, it was the act of closing the book on my plans and being receptive to what you are trying to tell me that solidified one last time what 36 was all about…it wasn’t about me.
I can’t say I’m the type that ever truly thought it was…but now I know for sure.
Sometimes life will ask you to do something unexpected, go somewhere you perceive as backwards, say goodbye to something/someone you truly wanted. However, if we are receptive in the midst of not wanting to be, life will show us something greater.
Sometimes we have to frustratingly abandon our plans and take a seat. Wait for it. If necessary…take several seats.
…for we owe servitude to the life that created us. There was — is — will forever be a reason. On the contrary, life owes nothing to us.
Don’t get it twisted.
37…giddy up…late is better than never!
PS I’m finalizing this on NYE in the city where it all began…so you betta be double ready…yee haw!