Comebacks

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Happiness in life is making comebacks. We all experience loss. It lays us all low at some point. More than once even. The thing to learn to lean into is the knowledge, the self-assurance, you will get back to seeing and tasting and hearing. That the living will be vivid again. The joy full again.

I took a day trip to San Diego in the middle of last week. Put a message on my voicemail and toured historic sites. My brother and I walked through the Mission San Diego de Alcalá. We enjoyed its gardens and its sanctuary. Stepped down into the padre’s quarters.

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A desk and a cot by a door that opens to a view. It was a hot day but pleasantly cool in the padre’s room because of the thick adobe construction and the breeze through the open doorway. It was calming, peaceful in the simple living quarters. Solid walls, a desk, a cot, a door, a view. The makings of comebacks. Strength to simply endure, curiosity, rest, an open heart that seeks the world outside itself, looking and seeing.

False Promises to the Dying

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Modesty is plausibility. The lie’s appeal. Chicago unacceptably and unrealistically far-reaching. So Fresno in July. Central California. Farm country.

Minor league baseball. Young, muscular, hopeful young men trying to hit doubles into the outfield gaps. The reaching. The smell of fresh mowed grass. Earth and youth and hay fever.

Eager whisperers. The believing. The wanting.

Plans of motels and cheeseburgers. Car rides and photographs and a coffee table book.

But she is 90 pounds and fading. The neither of us admitting.