Rise up this mornin', Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Saturday. Breeze is blowing. Green trees rustle while providing shade on this hot summer day. Kids are swinging to my left. Father and son are doing soccer drills in front of me. Two sisters ride their bikes on the central path. Kids skate on the park.
It’s a warm day cooled by the summer breeze. Dry green grass covers the field. Children's laughter is carried in the wind. Been alone with family. That’s the best way to describe it this last week. Brother is in Vegas with his wonderful wife and kids. Rodney his family hung out with me a few days back. Visiting Charlie Browns and Littlerock Dam.
Thinking back when my father was alive. I would always walk around. We used to camp a bit in the van. Cold, winter nights in the brown, multi-colored van hanging with Brian. I remember back in the early 80’s when we moved here to P-dale. It snowed that winter. Heavy. Several inches thick. Driving to downtown LA. Strangers coming to our van to grab some ice from my first snowfall. Felt so special then. Strangers walking to the fan to grab a handful of ice.
Dad’s gone now. He’s buried in the PI. Didn’t end it the way of would have liked. Still remember that text message on the Verizon phone. Thought it was a joke. Thought it was a desperate cry for help. Desperate cry for money. Thought was another sales scheme. I let it go. Yet, it still haunts me.
Choices were made. Forethought was absent. Hurt feelings still scarred me. Pain that I thought let go. Alas, I was not wise then. Let hurt rule that day. I remember being dropped off in the middle of the night by the aqueduct. Walking home in the dark as the party played on. I knew then. Actually, that is not true. Knew for quite some time. If I wanted anything, I had to do it myself. It was up to me. No one else’s fault but my own. Learned to swim. Learned to ride my bike. Learned to draw and write. Dad had a way with words. Those writings are gone like he is.
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!
Every little thing gonna be all right. Don't worry!"
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!
"'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
Can’t run away from this. Can’t get away of who I am. Problems that I face are my own. Solutions are up to me. Prayed for some time. Went to church for a bit, but couldn’t escape who I am and what I’ve done. Choices I made are mine alone.
Not strategic at times. Not the best outcome, yet still, here I am. I know in the grand scheme of things it little things that make the world of difference. It is the hug of nephew. The words, “I miss my uncle.” It is the postcard from an old friend. Don’t know if the things I do will change the world. Don’t know if it doesn’t matter. Hope can mean everything. Its hard to keep at times. When things are so bleak, so dark, to have this belief that things will be better. Dad always had that. I knew when it wasn’t there. Guess, that glimmer in the eyes. Recognize it all too well. In sales, I knew when a client was sold or was just hazed over.
Knew it with Glitter. Knew it with Dad. Knew it when I saw it in myself. That look in the eyes when I lost that glow. Raman said “Dead Inside.” Hard to re-ignite that fire when it was just a whisper.
It easy to lay down and die. To hide in the cave and just wait to end it. What a waste.
To this I say,
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself. ---D. H. Lawrence
So here I sit enjoying the hot summer winds. Listening to green trees rustle. Watching the Father and son kick the ball. There was a time I did this with my Dad. For now, this will have to do.
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right" - I won't worry!
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!
