Love, Life, and Friendship
The Next Life…or Wednesday
Celebrating love, friendship, and letting it fly like a red balloon.
There ought to be a carnival, a sky full of colored balloons drifting on the wind with tags on them saying… goodbye…goodbye…crossing the Golden Gate and on around the world riding the trade winds of friendship.
I wish I had moved more slowly, taken more time to arrive at where friendship left off. I wish I had danced and dined more often, learned the meaning of each other’s glances, or taken note how quickly time was passing.
Let warmth and humor always have you feeling a little tipsy, lighthearted, as if you’d eaten a perfectly ripe tomato and its color had entered your cheeks.
There are a lot of things I don’t yet know, or understand, but still I write about them — not as a writer does — looking for an explanation, but as a man wishing he’d known more about love than he does.
Memories always return, some broken, splintered, like shards of affection returning from another universe after being flung far off into space. Fragments that still survive, coming back at me, speaking of warmth, or friendship, or what goes with what. Of course, I alone know the truth; all the things I leave out, cast aside on a Sunday; recalled on a Monday as I hurtle into Tuesday…exhausted.
Don’t be weary of love, inflate it, breathe new life into love and loving. Nothing is perfect, not love, life, living, but everything can be rediscovered in measure, everything can be lifted from the ground to fly given reason.
I think balloons have taught me a great deal about life and death. The beauty of balloons is in their flying free, side by side, untethered, with love being the wind that caresses them along their journey, not always side by side, but going the same way carried on the wind of love.
I don’t need to demonstrate courage, or a reason to do something right, even if I only share my stories of friendship; illustrations, that we are not a definitive roadmap, but rather a journey into the next life…or Wednesday.
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