The shrill sets a sharp contrast as I stare into the blue Maui sky. Often the clouds here seem to not move at all. As if they have found a home and wish to spend eternity just hovering over our little slice of paradise. Believe me I have gazed for hours at the same billowing clouds in the distance. Just sitting there, stopped in time.
It’s in that moment that I see it. The outline of our 16th president stove top hat and all. It’s right there in the clouds. Oh yes, surely I was there. Now he is here.
The mornings come quickly these days. The dry, strange taste in my mouth, most likely caused by the anti-biotics. It’s as if a switch has been flipped, but the power only reveals itself in sleep. I visited familiar places which are new to me. The solution is very simple actually; the key is to be able to shut everything off. I think the damn pills have helped me do just that. But now the bottle is empty and my infection has healed. So I’m left with my prose. A written snap shot of all that I have processed these past couple of weeks.
My father was a welder, blue collar and proud. He worked the same job for 30 odd years, never once calling in sick. The day he finally did call, he drove himself to the hospital and 45 minutes later was dead. An act of genius when you think about it. One day you realize it’s time to turn in your chips, cash out. That’s what he did. No will, no note, no goodbyes.
I thank my father for everything he gave me, but most of all for that last great act of selflessness. No painful memories, no agonizing hours spent in a Hospital waiting room. Just me 500 miles away emptying my bank account for the first time in what would be an on-going routine. Getting on airplanes I can’t afford. Buying houses, I have no business being in. Just me and my madness, and my time. Money and time. Both things I will never know how much I will ever have. And if I knew, who would I be? I’d be something else. I’d be one of the many folks I greet everyday. Being sold, no longer selling.
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