Saving Time? Yes, let’s.
But first …
my 50th High School Reunion:
Only after flying to Wisconsin
did I realize
my former adolescent peers
were, and ever would be,
the keepers of my awkwardness.
They might bring up Rod McCool’s bash
where, handed my first beer
(no clue about pouring slowly or
tilting both can AND glass)
I baptized myself and
his absent parents’ white couch.
My boyfriend’s chagrin.
Rod McCool’s “!!&%#!!%#!”
Foam and lager and reek … O my!
At our most awkward,
we tell ourselves
we’ll never be cool enough.
Half a century later, I was
that clueless girl again, stalling,
afraid to brave the reunion.
During the first 2 minutes
no one mentioned my beer gaffe
(or numerous other follies).
Within those 2 minutes
and thereafter, I was hugged.
Kissed. Thoroughly welcomed.
I felt like Cinderella
twirling at The Ball.
O to be recognized,
touched at our wincing core,
that guarded, wistful corner
of the heart seemingly
doomed to always feel 16.
2 minutes
and my old outsider status
vaporized. I’d entered
a saving time. A healing time.
Which brings me here, now:
Scheduled to vanish,
2 minutes of daylight will
daily disappear,
until we turn back
our clocks, on November 4th,
and we are awarded 1 free hour
for a little more rest,
a little more dreaming …
Do you need rest?
Or a new dream?
We do.
My husband’s health is spiraling down.
Partly, it’s the genetic hand dealt him,
likely exacerbated
by the aftershocks and insults
anesthesia sometimes visits
upon the psyche and body.
We’ll see a UW Medical Center expert on Muscular Dystrophy
and 3 local specialists in other fields.
And we’ll move. Downsizing is here. For real.
One-story living,
one living story
unfolding …
I’ll share more in future posts.
Meanwhile, we’re turning back the marital clock,
recalling our madcap youth,
Dreamer and me in the Rambler,
cruising into a new town, setting up house.
We’re priming our souls for adventure,
an invitation to the as-yet undreamed …
ps At the reunion, my friend Wendie gave me this:
Daylight Saving Time: more here
Catch up on Dreamer’s story here
Stopwatch photo by Matt Lamers for Unsplash
How long has this homely garden gnome kissed the dirt? Someone seems pretty lax in their landscaping.
