Author: mikemeyer949

Sunday afternoon

5:05pm Sunday afternoon. Dana Point. After going to the movie we headed across town and grabbed dinner. It was unseasonably warm outside for the time of year. When we arrived the cool breeze in the restaurant relaxed us. We ordered drinks and continued talking. She told me about her experience growing up nearby. I nodded dutifully with a look of sincere interest.

Saturday morning

8:31am Saturday morning. Palm desert. As I drove my mind recalled moments when I felt at peace, times in my life I felt unburdened by expectation or remorse. It was then I felt most childlike, though I was far from innocent and very much an adult. I longed to retrace my steps and find that experience again; a moment when the world was filled with wonder, I was assured my existence held purpose and in my heart I was truly content.

Friday night

8:10pm Friday night. After dinner I went down stairs and walked over to the common room. Some people I knew were there, playing pool. Someone had brought a deck of cards and was teaching some others a new game. I tried to listen in but couldn’t follow the rules so I sat down in a chair by the fan and opened my book to read.

Friday morning

5:46am Friday morning. My wife called yesterday. She wanted to let me know our daughter had been hit in the head by a falling bowl. Though no cuts or bumps the doctor suggested “taking it easy” for a couple days. That meant they would not be traveling over the weekend. My wife wanted to know if I would like to come home. I said “yes.”

Thursday morning

5:43am Thursday morning. Could I ever deconstruct my life and rebuild it along a path of happiness? Years ago I chose adventure and responsibility, changing careers, becoming a parent. If i had chosen another life would my regrets be different? Who is to say one choice was better than the other? Who can judge my decisions as somehow flawed? Day by day, moment by moment I took course until I ended up at this very spot. Perhaps next week, next month, next year, I will reflect on this time just the same, and in those moments of respite I wonder why I did what I did and lament or celebrate the memory.

Wednesday morning

6:16am Wednesday morning. And that there was always a fire burning in my chest, imploring me to rush on, to get up again, to fight on long after the battle was through. and was that not the point of life? To mindlessly press forward? To believe things would be better tomorrow, when 10,000 yesterday’s had proved it untrue? What was I supposed to do but to do it all over again?