Brilliant blasts of sunshine bursts through Fran's thousand shades of green illuminating the Beloved Back Deck and giving the Palm Tree with the oyster eyes, coconut bra and grass skirt a halo. Goddess contently sits at my feet chewing on a raw hide. The yard is full of weeds and needs work. The Red-Tips need are overgrown and several plants need to be replaced. I'm sitting here taking inventory of what to keep, what to trim and what to get of ... and it reminds me of my life.
Sitting outside of a hospital emergency room in Richmond, Virgina my old friend Bill Berry (not the former drummer for REM but the other one who went to Seminary with me) was trying to stay awake. He'd been up for 25 straight hours waiting on a patient to die so that he could oversee the donation of body parts that would keep others alive. He filled some of the time by writing me.
"I hear rumor that you are engaged, I could tell back in November that Sarah is the woman for you." He went on to describe a Hodge-podge of the future and the past. His aging parents need constant supervision and their days are numbered. Business is booming so he works more than he ever has. He and Kathy are returning to the scene of one of our greatest crimes ... when he threw over the wall of the Trappist Monastery where Thomas Merton used to live and I landed on two monks who had taken vows of silence only to cuss.
"I don't know if I can get Kathy to do it," he says of throwing her over the wall, "I may spend all of my time at the Makers Mark Distillery. Tell Sarah 'Hi.'"
On this brilliant last morning of February that occurs every four years, I read his message again and am lost in thought. Whenever Bill and I are together, things happen. We've been around the world more than once ... chased by Turkish whores in Prague, walked together on the railroad track out of Auschwitz in Poland because there was no other way to leave, and he got me busted in Cuba. I love the man.
I imagine him sitting outside of the Emergency Room, leaning in a chair, the back of his head against the wall, fighting off sleep so that he can comfort the dead and save the living at the same time.
As the day unfolds, it becomes this crazy series of exchanges ... both though cyber space and live ... good news and bad news ... love and something other than love. Old friends want me to return to acting like the way I used to act and chiding me not doing so. Newer friends finding themselves in a position where they have to choose ... continue being my friend could risk offending somebody. There are conversations with attorneys, birthday wishes to Lenora, thanks to Jenny Gentry for inspiration, invitations from Stacy and expectations from Roma. My son Jeremy and I have a long talk about nothing and everything. Sarah sits beside me wrestling with similar things.
It's all a Hodge-podge of past and my future.
Suddenly, it's night time and Sarah and I make our way to Fannie's-on-the-Beach for Essie's surprise birthday. We're joined by Cheryl and Wyn (an old friend and a new one). Essie is surprised and everyone has a good time. At one point, I'm half-way listening to Sarah and Wyn who are in deep conversation when Jenny O is kicking my foot.
I stand up and she hugs me.
"You ready for this?," she asks in dead seriousness.
And I swear it was four of the sweetest words ever uttered. Behind each word was love and concern for me, where I'm at and where I'm going.
Salt water leaked out of my eyes as I nodded yes.
"Good," she said. "We'll get some pink table clothes, the bands good, and a bunch of people who don't know you will join those who do and toast you and Sarah. It'll be great!"
We hugged again and she made her way off to run Fannies.
Staring at the brilliant sunshine dancing with Fran's thousand shades of green, I think about Thomas Merton, the Trappist Monk whose ghost Bill and I chased all those years ago. Merton was something! He wrote great books and pushed Catholicism to be more than it was. He did these things having taken a vow of silence and lived alone in a Hermitage. He died trying to unite Buddhist monks with Catholic ones. A lot of Catholics were happy about it.
When Bill threw me over the wall that day, we were determined to find his Hermitage. It didn't go as planned.
Nothing ever does.
But you know what? I have lots of love again. The friends I have now are good ones. The uncertainty about the future are deep but the celebrations of the present keep doubts at bay. Somehow I've managed to achieve knowing exactly what I'm doing without having a clue at the same time!
Yesterday was cloudy, windy and cold.
Today is sunshine, blue skies, a calm ocean for sailing away and a warm exclamation point to "a long, cold, lonely winter."
I have things to do this morning. People in Atlanta, New York and Savannah want stuff from me. Two different publishers want chapters and there is a third I need to call back. I think I'll give them the morning ... then work on my tan.
Oh yeah ... I'm doing a wedding at Fannie's this afternoon.
So much to do ... so little time.
I'm going to enjoy it while I got it.
