In this life,
I’ll sit in the sun with ice cold sweet tea sweating in my palms
and I’ll sit watching the same sun fade into dusk with warm wine to my lips.
I’ll laugh until my cheeks get sore
and I’ll laugh until tears fill my crinkled eyes
and I’ll laugh more still when I get high with an old friend
all palsy-walsy and dopey as we cackle too loud at bad jokes
not worrying about if our laughs are pretty.
I’ll dance around in a rainstorm
and scamper inside when it thunders too loud like an awestruck kid
and I’ll feel a bonfire’s warmth hot only cheeks in those moments of a pyro-induced trance
and I’ll listen to the grasshoppers sing just for me.
I’ll eat spaghetti made by mom and play poker with dad
and I’ll lay on the floor and watch TV.
I’ll fall in love again -
in little ways with people passing through
and their stories and big grins and idiosyncrasies and bad dance moves,
and in big ways
with grand plans for the future,
holding hands,
talking about a little house with a big backyard and cherry tomatoes and hens and god fine, a basketball hoop if there must be.
And with all of this, there will be pain.
Oh, there will be pain!
My heart will break again - and again and again and again and again -
in little ways as I watch my childhood dog’s muzzle gray
and as ugly anemic condos pop up in the field designated for freeze tag.
And it’ll break in big ways -
as I sit in church pews with stinging eyes,
fidgeting with a tissue as organ music drones,
and as I watch someone walk out the door for the last time
sucker-punched in the chest to begin an ache that will
linger months.
And then?
Joy will come back again, creeping in before I can even welcome her arrival and make room next to grief.
And before I know it,
I’ll sit in the sun again with ice cold sweet tea sweating in my palms.
It’s life, it’s the collective experience, it’s being human!
It’s being alive!
God, isn’t it wonderful!