...And Lastly At First...

I’m sitting at the table staring out the window to the snow covered field in the park across the street. The sun is hidden behind a thousand miles of gray clouds. There are massive cargo ships and tankers sleeping in the harbor. There are some layered civilians walking dogs in the snow.

I’m strapped up to what looks like a jet pack to keep my hyper mobile collar bone from slipping and sending me to the floor screaming. There’s the bottle of gin on the table, a Christmas gift, slowly disappearing and a handful of pills that are softening the edges so I don’t have to see them. There are people in the room making light of the day.

It is another end and another beginning.

There’s another chance to start over. There’s another chance to either get it right or screw it up all over again. I tend to screw it up so I can start over again. I’m good at repeatedly polishing the starting line in hopes that I’ll finally blast from it at the sound of the starter’s pistol. I’ve seen success and it looks good on the people who have it. I wonder sometimes how the jacket would fit on me. It would have to slip over the rocket pack behind me. No matter, I’m just biding my time amassing pages and canvasses and ideas. When it comes, I’ll be ready and waiting with a smile and a simple cup of coffee in one of those Greek diner motifs.

We’re all in line for our just reward, aren’t we? And tonight, as if we all prayed and resolved en masse, then God would finally listen and we’d end war, live green and shed pounds. Then I’d be out of a day job, too.

And out there, beyond yonder window breaks a mass of souls and hearts all together rejoicing in the chance to start the whole dance over again. Discarding the old with its weighty chain and strapping on the new and sparkly with its hope and promise. Some feel lonely, some will count their blessings and some will sleep right through it. The ships in the harbor will sound their horns at midnight and a mighty crystal ball will drop over the heads of a million drunken revelers at midnight.

I’ll probably be standing on the balcony looking out at the water wondering if this year will be THE year. Only I know the answer to that, though. I have to make the effort. God told me that once on one of our walks.

It is another ending and another beginning.

Happy New Beginning to one and all. Maybe it will finally be my year. May it finally be your year, too...