Endings and beginnings
In the spirit of 'ask of the Universe what you will, but be ready to hit the ground running', I started thinking about what I'll do when, in for the first time in 20 years, I have nothing to answer to beyond food and lodging. There will be the obvious squirreling away of funds, but past that.... If I had, say, 4 or 6 months to be driven by whim entirely, what would I do?
Chatting with my funk soul brother, mosch, early this morning, exchanging ideas and dreams, I was surprised at what came to the surface. He, of course, wants to take Mrs. mosch and mini mosch to Europe and live some kind of pastoral life. [Very selfishly, I'm all for this plan of action on his part as one can never have too many friends in exotic locales.]
I'd love to travel as well, but wouldn't likely become an ex-pat, at least not for long. What I'd like is to do more than a week in Chicago. The jazzhead in me really wants to see what autumn in New York is like. I'd like to spend Christmas through New Years and then some back with the folks. I'd like very much to have lunch with a certain carpenter.
What crept up that surprised me most, as it seemed to come out of nowhere, was to find my dad's grave and spend an afternoon talking to him. Tell him that I miss him every day, that I grew up to be an ok person; someone that I think he'd be proud of. Tell him that I never stopped loving him. Tell him the goodbye I didn't get to tell him 30 something years ago. But not before telling him again how much I still love him.
It's funny what your heart calls to the stand when given free rein.
And regardless of what happens, I'm determined to get a dog. Maybe I'll even call him Jack.