I’m waiting for the bus that will take me to the city, but since it’s an “off” hour (10am), I am at the mercy of the 10:10 bus coming or not at all. (In which case it’ll be the 10:40.). No pressure. I took the morning off.
Which is just as well as I had difficulty sleeping last night. The last time I checked the clock before finally dozing off, it was 1:25. Blame it on all the papers I had to fill out and sign for the start of the school year. I was all done a few minutes after midnight but I guess it jogged my brain and “woke” me up.
Angelo and I walked to school and I dropped him off and walked back. It’s not hot nor cold but the skies are gray. Is that okay? I guess it’s good for a “between summer and fall” day. Summer’s practically gone — and here we are almost into the final quarter of the year. And before you know it, it’s 2014.
When I look back at the things that have happened in my life the last year and a half, it hits me. It gives me another angle from which to see the oft-repeated line that “(l)ife is short.”. Indeed. I somehow managed to get from then to now, and I think I’m okay with how things went — finally.
Acceptance. Yes, it’s okay. We all have our place under the sun — it’s up to us to embrace it or fight it. And maybe things will fall into place. Perhaps they have.
I have a bestfriend from elementary and high school who passed away tragically during our college years. We had drifted part after high school, but she had always been special to me. In fact, she was one of the reasons I had created one of the categories here: “The People in my life”. I had wanted to write about her and how I missed her and how we had such a special bond. We kept each others’ secrets — and she is forever going to be a part of my life.
What even made it sadder was I was unable to say goodbye to her at her wake because this was one of those periods when Dad was gravely ill back then and we were caring for him.
At the time of her death, she had a little boy. Yesterday, from out of the blue, one of our high school batchmates working at a Costco in Nevada announced to our high school FB group that she had met this boy, now a grown man, and had chatted him up — he wanted to hear stories about his mother.
I texted him for his e-mail address and he texted me back. Just getting that text from him almost brought me to tears. On the way home, I wrote him an introduction of who I am and who his Mom was to me. That was a very emotional e-mail for me to write. It brought back memories.
I am waiting to hear back from him. I suppose reading what I wrote was just as emotional for him as it was for me when I tried to describe his mom.
I can almost hear her telling me “It’s okay.”
Two syllables. It speaks an ocean. More often than not, it is enough to calm one’s heart.