The sky looks tired this morning.
Just like me.
The reflection in the mirror has aged since this time last year.
Then again, everything has aged since this time last year.
I am reminded of a joke from a famous comedian. Unfortunately, his name escapes me.
However, the joke still remains. But I promise to find him and advise you of his name at the end of this entry.
The comedian was asked by someone, “Would you like to see a picture of me when I was younger?”
The comedian answered, “every picture of you is a picture of you when you were younger.”
The audience paused
The comedian laughed
Then the crowd laughed after
It is true
Everything that happened to me is something that happened to me when I was younger. I will never be this age again and nor will I ever be this young again.
It is Friday, which is a good thing.
Friday was always a goal when I was younger.
Of course, Friday was the goal.
This meant that I had the chance to go crazy and lose my mind for a few days.
And who doesn’t want that?
No more teachers. No more books.
Then school ended and then it was no more work
I am reminded of the old song from a band called Loverboy, “Everybody’s working for the weekend.”
And this was always a true thing.
This was painfully true at times, especially when I was a man in his younger years.
There were less things that filled my plate. There was less to be concerned with and less to contend with.
I had fewer scars and fewer heartbreaks.
i had yet to understand the terms and the highest volumes of love.
There were fewer bills, fewer problems, and even if there were fewer hours in the day, nothing mattered because there was always another tomorrow to take care of yesterday’s problems.
I saw my reflection in the mirror this morning. My beard has more grays in it. My hairline is still pretty good.
My physique is pretty good for a man of my age. And some might say that my looks are good
Some might call me ugly.
Some might say I am too small or too big or too much of something.
But for the record, I look how I look.
I am often told that I look younger. I am told that I look good and of course for someone who has driven more than a few miles. And sure, there are always the young wise-ass kids who say, “You don’t look that old,” when they hear I am in my mid-fifties.
But this is all besides the point.
The sky was gray this morning.
There was something sad and quiet and perfect and apropos for the time being.
I am going through a molting season, so-to-speak.
I am shedding skin
I agree.
I am another year older.
But more, I am another year from my previous downfalls and another day away from things that happened to me when I was younger.
I stood in front of the mirror while lifting free-weights at the gym the other night.
I saw myself in the mirror.
Success is never an easily seen thing and more to the point, tiny successes are often overlooked.
I have a lot of little successes which are seemingly forgotten or taken for granted.
In fact. yes.
I am alive.
Very much alive.
I am one day farther from the yesterdays that still haunt me and more, I am day farther from a life that hurt me.
One day at a time . . .
I remember an old man with a gray beard. He used to tell me things like this.
He’d say things like:
One day at a time.
Keep coming back.
Don’t quit before the miracle happens.
I snapped at him one day.
I broke.
I opened up and let my rage free
. . . on him! obviously . . .
“Don’t quit before the miracle happens,”
He said.
I yelled back at him like a lunatic, “What fucking miracle?”
“I see no fucking miracles here!”
I was fresh from a night that almost killed me and someone else.
I was on a run with an old demon who kept my seat warm while I was gone.
I had more than one year clean from drugs and alcohol.
And I lost it.
I quit.
I gave it all back/
“Don’t quit before the miracle happened,” he said.
“What fucking miracle?” I screamed
“Tell me, what miracle is there?”
Perhaps I have talked with you about this before.
Perhaps I can be like a broken record.
I remember how the kind old man’s friendly appearance and happy smile faded to a sad and empathetic approach.
I was fine to die.
I was fine to be gone or fine to be sent away.
I was fine to be dead and buried and never to be heard from again.
The man asked how long it had been.
In this case, he meant how long had it been sine I put a mind-altering drug in my system.
He was asking how long had it been since I tried to kill myself and worse, and since the kind old man knew me well enough to know about my crimes and some of my history.
I had about 90 days away from all that shit in my life.
He called me “Son,” with tears building up in his bright blue eyes.
His white hair and white beard almost gave him a Santa-like approach.
The kind old man explained, “Son, there was a time when you couldn’t go 90 seconds without going back to that life. And now you have 90 days?”
I remember how the man placed his hand on my shoulder.
He said, “If that’s not a miracle, then I don’t know what a miracle is.”
This was the end of the summer, 1991
I was younger then.
I never assumed I would be able to get away from my past.
I never thought that I would be able to navigate my way to a regular profession.
I never assumed I would be a good or normal human citizen.
I never assumed I would live beyond my 20th birthday, let alone reach 54 years.
And here I am, cruising into a new year which we plan to call 2027
I saw my reflection in the mirror today.
I recognized the need for more care.
I saw the need to realize that there are such things as small and tiny successes.
And yes, add them up, and of course; the accumulation is far more impressive than we realize.
Most of my old friends, like the old man who helped me are gone.
The grand Master of All has punched their ticket at the timeclock here on this Earth.
Someday, I will go and perhaps I might find them again.
Or maybe I am intended to be elsewhere.
Who is to say?
All I hope is that one day, I pray that I will be regarded the same as I regard the old man who helped me
I pray that someone will think of me and someone will say, “no matter what his problems were, that man took time out of his day to save my life.”
I hope they realize this and and that they pay this forward –
just like I tried too
Goodbye, my old life
You used to fit me
But that was when I was younger
