A fresh start.
To me, that’s the best part of waking up. Some say it’s having Folgers in your cup. (I disagree.)
Open your eyes. The art of an eyelid captivates my mind this morning. It’s amazing something so small and thin can shield our souls from the harsh realities of life. A car accident. A bad hair day. All blocked by a thin lining. Sometimes I wish the earth had an eyelid. But it doesn’t and that’s the beauty in life. We must live with harshness around us. So much darkness can be seen when the sun is shining. But that’s just it … the sun is shining. God is good. Life moves on. It’s our choice to act as heroes or cowards with the situations we are placed in. Every moment is golden. Regardless if we run away, shut our eyes, fake a smile … everything serves a purpose. Make it count.
Count. One, two, three. Are you there yet?
Make plans. Plans to succeed. Plan to be somebody today. You don’t know who needs you today. They don’t know they need you today. Be there. Play the game. No time-outs. The only ref is the one in your head calling the shots. Your conscience. It knows you better than anybody. Listen to it. Do not doubt. You didn’t know you had to pick teams today. What team did you pick? The Bold Braves. The Silent Slackers. I picked The Happy Hearts. I want to smile today. My heart needs it. My heart needs love. Not the kind that comes from friends. I have that. More than enough to last me a lifetime, actually. I’m talking about the kind that comes from love. True love. Unconditional love. A lover. My lover. I remember her smile. Her laugh. Her hands. Why, though? I’ve moved on. Or did I just move around the train wreck that took place right in front of me? Forget about it; it doesn’t matter any more. It’s all said and done. But yet I do remember. And I miss it.
I miss her. I miss us.
Pass the salt, please. Not for all the wounds I have, but to add flavor. I need more flavor in my life. But not just any flavor. I need one that will make my weakest taste bud scream. Who ever thought about that? We all have buddies on our tongue. Are they the ones that decide what hurtful words will be expressed? Maybe they’ll stop him from yelling at her. But they worked overtime last night; they don’t have strength to stop the words today. She wishes they did. She wishes—one wish—did you hear that wish, God? I don’t know. He didn’t stop those harsh words from escaping the mouth of a mean, angry man. Why not? For me? Would God love me enough to do that? I think so. I know so. Yes. The man and those words had no idea I was there. I listened. He tore her to shreds. Every horrible word imagined, he used. I cried. She cried. We cried together. We cried apart. I hurt for her. But I thank God for that. A lesson that I would never have learned any other way than to see it right in front of me. A lesson I will cherish forever. I don’t know her name. I don’t remember her face. I don’t. But I remember. I remember how my heart hurt. Ouch. Please stop yelling at her. Please stop hitting her.
For me. For her. For you.
My eyelids hurt. I still need love. I still need flavor. Am I needy? Am I needed? What do I have to give? Everything. My mother taught me that. You want to know strength, get to know her. Look at her hands. Hands of a hero. My hero. My mom. She knows pain. She knows sadness. But yet it’s different for me. I know pleasure. I know happiness. She taught me the opposite of what she experienced. She had it bad. I have it good. And yet through all of it she came out on top. She won. She chose to act as a hero. She found love. Her life is art. Those dark, harsh spots on her life canvas have been painted over with pastels. No boundaries. Her life is color. I’m still learning how to paint my life. There are times I stop and stare at her canvas just to get a hint. A hint on life. Live and learn, she always reminds me.
And I do. Every day.
A whole day has passed. What did I learn? How did I feel? How many times did I use my eyelids to shield my soul? Did I fake a smile? I did. But I found flavor today. I found it in memories of my childhood. From the hero that raised me. I gained hope in finding love. My love. I know she’s out there. I believe our canvases will one day be placed next to each other in a gallery of hope. I don’t know her name. But when I hear it I’ll know. My conscience will know. And I will not doubt. Until then I will make life count. Through all the laughs, tears, heartache, and joys. I will make this world a better place. I will act as an eyelid to those around me. I will be the hero for once. I will paint my canvas. I will. And I will always remember tomorrow is a new day.
Another fresh start.