Musings at Midnight

I've often wondered what people mean when they say life has been kind. Does it mean being surrounded by comforts? Soft beds, whimsical vacations, peak health? Well, the last one is understood. Who doesn’t want health without a care? Still, we care. One fact remains undeniable no matter how it’s viewed: there is only one way off this planet. Unless the rapture happened while I was sleeping and those taken either weren't my friends or simply didn’t make the news. That alone feels like a sign to get my act together. Anyway, back to good health. Eat this or eat that only to watch it deteriorate into veined fragility beneath a thinning sheath. A breath away from pine, satin, and last regrets. A life without adversity? No deadlines. No pleading with the bank because you missed a couple payments somewhere between the layoff and finding another job. No attachments bleeding into siestas, soirees, or midday lunches— little more than elegant ways to fill time. I’m not one to miss a meal. That’s another fact. I’m also someone who finds enjoyment in realness. Really good conversations over a hot dog, water, and waning sunlight slipping over green turf while elusive butterflies drift in and out of view. Is it the vacation homes on either coast, heated pools, and clubs by invitation only? The pool may have sold me. Warm water caressing tired flesh while floating aimlessly with a tall glass and a little umbrella resting at the rim. Maybe. But I also loved, beyond anything else, standing along the perimeter of cement and sand mixed together, shoveling it into buckets for our miniature assembly line. Passing red clay bricks and water bottles upward as the walls rose one layer at a time. Choosing the palette and window trimmings. The final touches on our home. Built from the ground up on determination, hearty food, and friends who didn’t let go. Still unbroken. So, I’m still not sure if life has been kind. But what I do know is this: it is good.