Baby it’s cold
outside I would say as we pulled into the drive after coming back from a gig and excursion to Waffle House. I got my keys ready, gathered my camera bag, opened the door and exclaimed rather loudly, ‘Brrrrrrr…… it’s COLD outside’ as I quickly walked toward the front door. He casually gets out of the truck and makes his way to join me, laughing and saying, ‘It’s downright balmy!’ and as the gentleman he is, holds the door for me to enter the house first. I feel a bit silly now and say, ‘Don’t mind me Darlin’, I’m just over reacting’. He laughs again and I pause to give him three quick kisses as we make our way into the house.
I make my way to the dining room where my laptop is set up, pull the memory card from the camera and begin downloading photos from the evening. And as so many nights before, being exhausted, I fall asleep with my fingertips on the home row of the keyboard. (how’s that for a throwback memory?) And I wake, looking over to the living room, wondering why he went to bed without me and realize it was all a dream. Yes, it was cold outside tonight myDarlin’….
I make my way to the dining room where my laptop is set up, pull the memory card from the camera and begin downloading photos from the evening. And as so many nights before, being exhausted, I fall asleep with my fingertips on the home row of the keyboard. (how’s that for a throwback memory?) And I wake, looking over to the living room, wondering why he went to bed without me and realize it was all a dream. Yes, it was cold outside tonight myDarlin’….
She spoke words tonight at dinner that confirmed what I already knew to be true. Prosperity is not about money. She drew a vertical line intersecting with the horizontal on the paper before her, and penciled a title on each square; Things I am paid to do, Things I pay for, Things I receive free, Things I give freely. Looking back over the paper, she laid her pencil down and knew that she was rich beyond compare as the bottom two squares could barely hold the entries she had made.
Today was yet another beautiful autumn day bathed in sunlight, blue skies and golden leaves hanging on to the branches of the trees before letting go for a graceful free fall in the light wind to join the others congregated on the ground. I rushed out of the door after sleeping in late this morning to keep my appointment to get my hair styled. Even though trust is an intangible, it is as real as the air I breathe. And in that wonderful realm of trust, I tell her to do whatever she would like with my hair. Now, even though I am not a hairstylist, and don’t even pretend to be one on TV, I understand that this is a really empowering statement. She expertly snips and clips as my hair falls to the ground much like the leaves in the breeze outside of the back door of her salon. She hands me the mirror and I run my fingers through my hair and know exactly why I love and trust her.
I make my way down the road towards home, and see the signs on the side of the road… one after another and another, with an arrow to ‘turn right here’ and out of curiosity I turn. It is a local art festival, and I cannot resist. Score! A spot on the right side of the road with what appears to be plenty of room to parallel park. And after much effort, I wind up halfway on the lawn and realize that some things are not like riding a bicycle. I pull out, and drive a bit until I see a spot I can ‘pull into’. Confession – If parallel parking is still on a driving test, I would not be able to pass – ugh! As I walk up the sidewalk, I can hear the music and see the banner hanging between two power poles. The band is set up on the lawn of a corner lot and booths line the side street blocked with an orange and white barricade. Chalk drawings of whimsy adorn the street, filled with the footsteps of children, dogs and yes, adults. And I watch my friend play drums, then see a glimpse of tie dye beyond the equipment and the two large black dogs on the lawn. I sit down with her son, a young teen, on the lawn and chat about the day and what not. I think back to my teen years, and my son’s too and know that his mind is exploding with a million possibilities for the future.
There’s plenty of time to get to my ‘date’ with girlfriends for a mani/pedi and dinner, and I leave early as I am channeling myDarlin’ who hated to be late. Making great time on the expressway, Maps indicates that I should arrive 30 minutes early and then it happens…. or should I say doesn’t happen? Traffic slows to a crawl as is so common in the ATL. I slide in the parking lot with three minutes to spare. In honor of myDarlin’ and the Saints, I hand my bottle of OPI ‘Bling Dynasty’ (gold) nail polish to the nail tech, roll up my jeans and place my feet in the warm water. And we drive back to our friend’s house, for a wonderful dinner, wine, laughter and quality time with seven, yes seven doggies. The conversation is lively, deep, light, fun, serious and intriguing against a backdrop of light jazz, and bounces like a ping pong ball between us. Brach, the poodle who takes a bit to get comfortable with strangers, decides that he likes me and nudges me to pet him to which I happily oblige. Before the night is over I take a ‘selfie’ with Brach and wonder if it is strange that I have so many with dogs.
And as I sit here, fingers dancing from home row up and down, I am grateful for perfect days and not so perfect days for we have so much to learn from both. A perfect day was every one since I met myDarlin’ Robert Kenui Pope and even though the day he left us seems not perfect at all to us – to God it was one of the best in the books as his faithful servant returned home to take his place in God’s House Band. As I look back at my life, especially the past eleven years, I know that I am the richest woman in the world and I know that each one of you are rich too.
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