Whoosh.---From Monty Python's, "The Meaning of Life"
What was that?
Your life mate.
Do I get another chance?
Sorry.
Of his song, "For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her," Paul Simon says it is not about Emily, not about any real woman, but its about a belief. In his companion song, "Overs," he said it was about the loss of that belief.
I waited for her to come, in the allusions of my life. There was always so much time, so many years and adventures ahead, that belief was easy, a rubber stamp on each new day. Much the same can be said about everything else in life, success, achievement, family, faith, peace and tranquility. It's all out there, needing only belief and effort to reel it in.
I started this Blog about six years ago, November 18, 2004. Earlier that year I had left my then wife and two teenage daughters to start my life over with someone who is now long gone from my life. Whoosh, what was that? The Blogs, especially the Sunday ones, chronicle my journey from a barrier island off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina, to the frozen tundra (or so how I remember Spokane) of eastern Washington, to the desert Southwest. It is hard for a Cancer to be on the road as we are homebodies. But I have been a man without a home for so long, I have forgotten what home is and that is the saddest rip of all.
Before any judgments are made, we have some score-keeping to update. The labor of love that is AllAllan has morphed itself into a flourishing subscription service with a 90% renewal rate and a satisfaction from the sharing of my work that transcends anything I ever remotely achieved as an attorney. And last fall I met a delicate soul of immense beauty and grace, who is now a part of my life, or what's left of it. Score two for the journey.
I can reach deep down into the angst and find its source code, dating back to 2004 and in many ways, 20 or so years before that, or even to the first time I heard, understood and embraced, "For Emily." Maybe that was the journey, that was my road trip and this is where my home has been waiting for me all these years. At times (And when I awoke and felt you warm and near), it all makes perfect sense. That this was the time and place, and person, who was waiting for me to come home for such a long time.
Or maybe this is the first step in a journey that is unfolding as we speak (or I write, but for me at least, its more of an ongoing conversation then a series of essays). The challenges are certainly real enough on all sides of my ledger. And where once I was too young to crash and burn, that is no longer the case. Second chances are finite, a realization that hits only when its too late to do anything about it. I have seen first hand how the ravages of outrageous fortune drained the life out of better men then me. There but for the grace of God......
I just don't know and I wonder if in the end, any of these questions will get answered, or if there is some plan, some rhyme or reason for all that has gone down, all that I have been, or have done, or have felt. It is in that sense that maybe we all share life's quandary, predicaments and confusion.
In the end, will my path make any sense at all?
Another shot of belief, please.
A
