My world has changed significantly in the years since he left, but not entirely.
The first thing i do upon awakening (after thanking my God for another day) is turn on the coffee.
Immediately after that first hot intoxicating sip, i am able to face life, (or at least try),
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Then I resume my contact with the world, via both email and digital news.
This a.m. I find both the news and email or to quote another “A MIXED BAG”
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Then I become more than a mite confused.
Do I join the current escalating trend of accusation and float back to yesteryear (or half a century ago)?
Perhaps I could resurrect the anguish of the the evening someone stole my favorite subway seat?
This does seem to be the era of remembered offenses, slight or insignificant,
Or perhaps recall the year I was 17 and had no date for the prom. I believe the young man I invited and who said “Sorry” is still listed in the phone book somewhere. I could accuse him of something, perhaps, making me cry.
Because this does seem to be the era of remembered offenses, slight or insignificant.
Or instead I could relive the hot August afternoon when Mom bought chocolate ice cream for my sister, and vanilla for me.
Perhaps that’s why I have occasional bad dreams, or
Perhaps only remember the kindness, love and care that allowed me to grow and thrive,
as I choose to leave that controversial topic and switch to the other section of today’s mail,
When I come upon another quandary.
Which of the following requests for donations, should I choose:
The current campaign to update a historical building and repair the organ at an estimated cost of six million dollars, Or
Do I replenish the coffers of of the small religious shelter in midtown Manhattan with a breadline that has served the homeless for 180 years. Today it continues to bespeak Christ in the City.and is threatened by a government takeover as a blighted area. Or
do I retreat for a second cup of coffee before saying,
“Not now, let’s begin again tomorrow.”
And realize I cannot change the world, and it is futile to try.
