It’s Almost That Time of Year

And then the alarm goes ring . . .
It’s time to get up. The sun is about to push into the sky like a bright orange yolk in the palm of the horizon. It’s cold though.
There will be no warmth today.
At least not from the sun.

There will be a cool wind from the north which will break the momentum of a previous heatwave. I laugh as I say heatwave, if you could call it that.
Nevertheless, it is wintertime on this side of earth. As we go around our place in the orbit, it’s our turn for this part of the hemisphere to move more distant from the sun.
I say this but, in all honesty – I don’t mind.
I don’t mind the snow on the grass or the blanketed fields of white. I like the way they take on a bluish appeal in the midst of a midnight aura; a full moon shining down on the snow-covered ground from above, a starlit sky, a memory of a moment when I was young and, of course; all is well.
I have a picture in my mind. A memory, or so this is called.
This was just months before Christmas near the church that was just off Front Street – the golden peak from the chapel with its crucifix perched up high with the moonlight in the background, the sky was clear and the wind was cold.
I swear this was long ago but I can still recall the winterized ambiance. I can remember the cold breeze, stinging my earlobes; yet, there was something so amazing about this moment. There was something magical and intimate. 
It was beautiful.

I do not mind the colder months, not at all.
Though there are times when my feet are cold and my cheeks are red and though there are times when my commute into the City is disturbed by the slush from a precious snowfall; I am still blown away by the ambiance of my City during the holiday months. 

I am still taken aback when looking at the window at Macy’s on 34th Street. I am still a fan of the parade and yes, although it has been decades since this has been “a thing” for me – I am still a fan of the ball dropping at Times Square on New Year’s Eve and the song for Auld Lang Syne, which in translation means “times long past.”

So yes, for auld lang syne.
For all of those who lived with us; for all who endured and laughed and wept and stood at our side, I agree when we say for auld lang syne.
 
I agree that we need to remember. I agree that we need to remember the good times – even if this includes bad people or people who we chose to uninclude with our lives. Even to them I say for auld lang syne.

I know there are nights when we sang and we cheered. I know that there were days when we were so young.
Or better yet, I know there was a time when we were unforgivably young and crazy as ever.
We were wild, out-loud, and living without regard for the rights or the wrongs because all we had at the time was “the time”. All we had was “the moment.”
All we had was the wildness of our days.
All we had was the craziness of our nights, which to me – this was perfect.
Even when the times were imperfect; everything was perfect because this was us. This is where we came from. Also, this was our way of heading in a direction with an intention and a purpose – to which, of course, everything we’ve said and done has led us up to this moment.
Right here and right now.

I swear to you.
This moment is pivotal, just like the earth is pivotal when swinging around the sun.

Our lives are in need of direction. We are free to make choices. However, it is my right as a human and my responsibility as someone who loves you to remind you that not all of our choices will be desirable ones.
But either way: to auld lang syne.
To all the times that have passed. To all the battles and the wars, whether we won or lost – here we are, exactly where we are supposed to be and neither you nor I have given up.
We haven’t quit.
No, we took our bumps and bruises. We took our losses like a champion and like the underdog, you and I have refused to give way.
So to this I say, to auld lang syne.

I know that there are times when we find ourselves in the aftermath of life.
What I mean is there are times when loss occurs and life is lost.
There are times when we bury our loved ones or our friends.
There are times when we bury our family and times when we weep and we mourn.
We look for something (or anything) to soothe the achiness of our losses – and we do this so that the pain can be rekindled by the light of their life.

I know, for example, there are people who I have not seen or heard from in decades.
There are people whose voices are gone to the other side of existence.
Though I cannot hear them, my heart listens for them.
Or, should I say that my heart listens to them instead because their words are more like statements in the stars.
Yes, maybe that’s it. This is my heart speaking.
And that’s just fine.

I know that when loss occurs there is an irredeemable emptiness. There is a hollowness that cannot be satisfied.
I know that there is a space in us which takes place. In fairness, when grief like this takes place, there is an open hole which nothing can fill nor replace it.

There are so many things that I want to share with the people I love yet there are so many things that none of them will ever see – at least not while they are here with me in the flesh.

I know what’s about to come.
It’s the holiday season. This is all on the way.
While I understand the beauties of the holiday lights and the jazz of my City, I also understand why this time of year is regarded with pain and sorrow –

I get it.

As I write to you, I have my volume turned low enough that I can faintly hear the sound of a jazz-like piano.
I chose this music as if to replicate the cocktail hour of a scene in a movie which I regard with an open heart.

I have never been to a party like this one.
Maybe this is because parties like this are for adults; and maybe (just maybe) I’m still not ready to be an adult yet.
However, I am a fan of the countdown and the kiss between two lovers.
I am a fan of two people who are destined to be together forever and to them, I say for auld lang syne.

I know that my life was not always so desirable. I know that my time is limited and before I am “Let go,” I can say this:
”But I’m here now!”

I don’t mind the bumps and bruises nor am I afraid of my scars so much, at least not anymore.
I don’t mind that my turns which led me to dead ends turned out the way they did because again:
I’m here now.

I know that when I faced some of my life-altering disappointments, I swore the pain would last forever; that I would never heal or regroup.
I swore that I would never find my balance so that I could stand up once more – or get up to keep going.
But this I say: to auld lang syne.
I say this because the tales from my past are the strength that builds my spine; therefore – to auld lang syne because I will never forget. I will always remember and I will never surrender. 

To auld lang syne

To close, in a scene from Romeo and Juliet, there is a moment when Romeo cries out, “I am fortune’s fool.”
I know what he means by this.
However –
I am no fool. I am my fortune. I am my history. I am my future and hence, I am direction forward as well.
At all times, I am me.
And I will hold this tightly.
I will hold this with all that I have; to create heat so that when we grow cold or more distant from the sun; I will have you and all of our memories to keep me warm.

For always~

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