Hi there, come on in.  Another late night - it always bothers me to ask ya'll over at this point in the day.  True, it is Saturday.  Does that mean you can stay for awhile?  I hope so, your company makes many long hours of tired much more comfortable.  Here she comes ... alittle muted, she just woke up.  Like me, takes a bit to waken and shake off the sleepy.  There goes the nub, though, so I guess it's safe to say your touch did the trick.

Saturday night.  I spent mine as I often do, which simply means it was not a Saturday night of my youth.  Once upon a time it really didn't matter what day of the week it was - except Saturday night was like Christmas morning!  Now?  Not so much.  I can't decide if it's age, responsibility, laziness or a large amount of all three.  Then again it could very well be that I'm just boring.  Anyway, good to see you.  May I get you something?  Of course, whatever I have that you like is yours.  No, you can't have the sofa.  Think you're funny, don't you?  Ok, big shot.  

What did you do tonight?  

Hi there, come on in.  It is!  No need for artificial light this evening, the soft white glow from the Moon has cast the perfect illumination.  A shadowy reflection ... like after a fresh coat of midnight show came calling.  Beautiful, indeed.  There's a seat on the sofa, make yourself comfortable.  No, thanks, someone just changed it - can't tell.  We'll get it in a minute, keep listening.

I listened today to the words that an old friend died yesterday.  A wonderful man I have known through hugs and conversations enjoyed a few times of year by the beach.  For twenty-six years.  A teacher, psychologist, mentor, father and friend he touched so many lives other then mine.  Yet he never failed to express his affection and admiration for me even as an older man recording his last videos of an Atlantic Ocean sunset.  Voices of vacationing friends forever captured in the audio.  Left as priceless keepsakes to his loved ones who grew so tired of watching them all year through.  As we all feel when we suffer a loss, I wish I had know that the last hug we shared would be just that.  But I'm really glad I didn't.  We parted with smiles and laughter, busily anticipating our reunion.

Tonight as I gaze at the full Moon I hear his voice telling me how special I was to him.  I feel the slight irritation when he arrived every morning at 8:00 with a hand full of pencils to be sharpened.  He awoke at 5:30 and did algebra and calculus equations just to wear down those damned pencils.  But I wish treaure that, and him, as long as I draw breath.  He's in the Moon tonight. 

Hi there, come on in.  No, it's still not quite full, I've been squinting so hard my right eye is twiching.  I'm thinking maybe tomorrow night, how about you?  Grab a seat, what can I get for you?  No problem, on the way.  It's the Panthers v Eagles, pre-season.  It's been raining on them, clear now and Carolina is ahead 10 - zip.  Go, Panthers!  Early in the game though, half time, there's a reason they're billed the "Cardiac Cats".  You didn't know that about me?  Love, love, love football!  We beat the Colts the other night off of Casey's foot, as so often happens.  Oh, hush.  I know we often suck and Delomme has his troubles, but 'ya just gotta support your team!  McNabb's not what he once was, either.  No, there're in Philadelphia.  Second half just started ...

We think we know everything there is to be learned about someone and then out of nowhere we're surprised.  Why?  We are all made up up of pieces.  Residuals from our past that leave an imprint whether we admit it or not,  people we meet today that we ignore or embrace and the lessons tomorrow will teach if we listen.  And frankly, even if we don't.  All the pieces in the koleidoscope tossed around when another turns the wheel.  Colored shards of glass are like memories we've forgotten and are yet afraid to release.  We need them, just don't want to admit that we own them.  Such are the pieces of who we are today.  In this moment.  Don't take yourself or your loved ones as stagnant pools. 

That's no fun, is it?

Hi there, come on in.  Wow!  Look at the Moon!  Almost full ... isn't that Mars just to the right, I thought so - yes, that bright star.  You're so silly.  It's what?  No, I'm pretty sure it's Mars.  Almost covered by the clouds again, we've had so much rain today.  Absolutely!  I've been a happy camper all day.  Why would it be depressing?  That makes no sense to me.  I find day in and day out of blue skies and sunshine with no variation except hot or hotter boring.  The true colors of the world shine when they're shrouded by rain.  Just squint alittle, like you have to do to tell the Moon's not quite full, remember? 

You know, there is way too much importance placed on the need for something to be full.  As though it's the one thing to which we need to aspire.  Live life to the fullest - glass half full (while completely full would obviously be a 50% improvement) - a full stomach - full of ... well, you get my point.  If you think about it and consider the picture from a side glance, doesn't being full just mean there's no room left for anything else?  No pleasure, no love.  No child's laughter, no shared tears.  Not the slightest chance of anything else to be had because you're already full.  No, not for me.  You can have that particular brand of perfection if it makes you feel somehow more complete.  I don't ever want to be complete enough to deny the chances of learning more, growing stronger, spreading my wings over new horizons and simply being enriched by loved ones.  Consider me the proud example of a glass half empty.

Hi there!  Sox, get down.  You know how she is with you, she can't stop the wiggle dance.  Did you see the Moon?    

Hi there, come on in.  How was your day?  Yes, I had a feeling so I made a point of being home early tonight.  Another long and active day, I'm sorry.  Can I help?  What can I get for you?  That's easy, sure thing.  The sofa is yours since most haven't shown up yet.  I expect we'll see them later when they finish the tedious details of life and are ready to relax and unwind for awhile.  Glad you're here now.  Precious moments spent unexpectedly with special people, one of the truly best things in life.

A quiet second amidst the miriad of noise we all suffer through.  Why must life be so loud?  As though by screaming at us the larger point is made in spades.  What that point may be is largely lost on us folks simply looking for the right way to turn, the least confusing direction.  All we really want is to make it through our day without hurting anyone, without damaging too much, without seeming stupid and feeling small.  We gather our courage as the sun begins to define us yet again, for yet another attempt.  Take a deep breath and jump in; maybe this one will be the one that transforms us forever.  Maybe with this one we'll finally leave our mark.  Maybe this one ends up being just like the other one that looked alot like the one before that.  And each one louder than the last.  My kingdom for a slice of peace in the middle of the day.

So here we are, you and I.  The lights are low, the music soft and the memories of the day fading.  Tonight, we share the peace of friendship and good will.  It's softly quiet.  So tell me, how are you feeling tonight? 

Hi there, come on in.  Watch out!  Sorry about that, I just got home and hadn't let her out yet so when she saw the open door ... are you all right?  Good.  She'll apologize when she comes back in, you know.  Grab a seat - oh, wait.  Will you change the music first?  Nobody's paying attention, too deep in conversation.  Thank you!  That?  It's one of those musical cards.  A birthday card from my Dad, it's really sweet.  Nearly scared me to death when I opened it and the song started playing ... it was heavier than the average card but I figured he'd included a CD or something.  Why must you always laugh at me?

My Dad doesn't live close by, as does my Mom.  So I don't have the opportunity to see him nearly as much as I'd like.  I truly envy those who share a daily dose of life with their Dad.  I've never had that, since becoming a child of divorce at the age of three.  For many years as a young girl I spent the summers with him, and gleaned some of my most important information regarding life in general.  Draw what you see, not what you think it looks like.  Write what you feel, the words will take care of themselves.  He taught me - in the wee hours sitting at the kitchen table eating cookies when I should have long since been asleep - how amazing it feels to be the center of the universe to someone you adore.  

I was thinking about my Mom last night, as you know.  I learned alot about Moms through our conversations and a bit more about us, as well.  With the arrival of Dad's card, and the words with musical overtones I'd never before received, the central focus of my thoughts shifted.  Funny, though, that a birthday as an adult tends to bring parents to the forefront of the occasion.  Tonight, it's my Dad.  He continues to teach me in kitchen table ways, and I continue to learn that I am the center of his universe.

What did your Dad teach you?

Hi there, come on in.  I'm not as late tonight!  Life gave me a day off from the trials, so I've been here waiting for you all along.  With baited breath, as they say.  I feel as though we've been passing each other lately and so am a bit disconnected.  I hate that.  How was your Sunday?  Filled with relaxation and smiles, I hope.  What can I get for you?  You've got it, grab a seat on the sofa and I'll be right back.  What?  Oh, hey!  I didn't see you there, what a wonderful surprise.  Are you all right?  I know things have been hard lately, I'm just so happy you stopped by to see us.  Can you stay?  Take the ugly blue chair, it has your name on it tonight.  That's funny, you're right.  A big dog in your lap comes with the chair.  She's a very expensive option unless you touch her, then she's just a cheap date.  I'll see you in a minute.   

I said I hate something.  My mother would tell me never, ever to say that.  She told me lots of things as a kid that still rebound in the recesses of my memory.  You might dislike something, but you never hate it.  Especially not a living thing.  'Yea' and 'nope' are lazy ways of saying yes and no.  'May I' askes a proper question for consent, 'can I' simply askes if you are able.  For a while I had a habit of saying 'god dang'!  She nearly passed out on a regular basis.  I thought it best to cease and desist with that one and came up instead with 'dangit'!  A juvenile, and I thought clean, version of dammit.  No, that didn't work as well as I'd hoped.  She just tried to raise me right, as any good Southerner would say.  I like to think she did.


These days, she's far more likely to cuss than I.  It always makes me laugh, especially if I can slip in a 'god dang' now and then.  She still catches me, but it just solidifies the bond of memories between us.  I would not be who I am without the daily teachings from one who didn't realize that was what she was doing.  She was just being my Mom.

What did your Mom teach you? 

Hi there, come on in.  I know, I know.  I'm really sorry, another late night playing in the sandbox of my life.  Can you sit for awhile?  If not, just give me a quick hug and I'll see you another time.  Oh!  Looks like Sox wants one, too.

I can actually hear time moving tonight, feel it changing my molecular structure as it breaths down the back of my neck.  It's not about the clock; it's a infinite passage of eternity that has me caught in it's hand of time - and this evening it will not let go.  Strangely, I don't seem to mind.  I think it oddly comforting to allow something so unstoppable to sweep me away.  Relaxing that human need for control and submitting to the power of time. 

Guess what?  I was born at 1:00 AM on Friday, August 10th.  Oh, why not.  We're all friends here and I've never given lying about it a second thought.  1962.  I personally have always considered it a very good year.  What?  Yes, a night owl from birth - at least I come by it honestly!  Don't tell her I saw it, but I think Sox has something hidden behind the sofa for me.

So time is on my mind tonight, but only because I have lived a good bit of it and am excited to find the other side of this moment.