No Loitering

“Forever is composed of nows.” – Emily Dickinson

“Life's splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.” – Franz Kafka

Things don’t last forever. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. The day lasts all day, the night lasts all night, and then they are gone. Of course there is a next day, and a next night after that, but each one only lasts as long as its allotted time, then it disappears. A picked rose soon withers and dies. The dying process starts the minute you cut it from the bush. You can add plant food to the water in the flower vase, but it will only prolong the beauty for so long. Food left in the fridge won’t last for long. Leftovers need to be eaten as soon as possible before they mutate into fuzzy green fridge monsters that smell just as lovely as they look. Prepackaged food usually comes with a use-by date. Heed those dates…they are printed on the package for a reason. Relationships fail for one reason or another. I know that they do. I have had a few failed ones that I really, really wanted to work. But they haven’t. And it is well known that people don’t live forever either. As soon as we are born, we begin to die. It may take longer for some than others, but we all end up in the same prone position in an antiseptically smelling funeral home, being admired by loved ones just before the great dirt nap.

My phone hates me. Just yesterday I was talking about getting a new phone. My two-year contract with my cell provider is up today and I am able to renew my contract and get a new phone at a discounted rate. My phone must have heard me talking about doing this and decided to revolt. Yesterday, when I received a call, the ringer started this awful garbling sound and then fell silent. After completing my call, I fooled around and tried to get some sound from the little speakers. Nothing. No music, no ring tone, no nothing. Later today, I put the speaker up to my ear and tried to hear a song. The faintest sound could be heard trying to escape the inner workings of the phone. Taking things into my own hands, I tried my hand at phone repair. I removed the four visible screws under the battery and tried to disassemble the phone, hoping to see why I had no sound. These phone manufacturers must take these self-diagnosis scenarios into mind, for surely they have hidden some more screws to thwart this behavior. I could not get the phone apart without resorting to destructive measures. So I gave up, telling the phone that its days were numbered. I’ll probably keep it just for the Breakout game installed on it. I have become addicted to it. I want to keep it.

Don’t even get addicted to a television series. For just as soon as you start to religiously watch it, begin to relate to the characters, get deep into the storyline, and anticipate the following season, that’s when the show will get cancelled. I really loved a show on UPN called Veronica Mars. I had missed the first season which really put me behind in the storyline. Veronica was a senior in high school who worked as secretary for her dad (the former sheriff and now private detective) and solved mysteries for other kids at school. Her best friend ends up getting killed by her boyfriend’s father, a bus load of kids from her school go plunging over a cliff on a field trip, biker gangs rebel, principals end up dead, things go missing, people disappear…and Veronica solves them all for a price. Characters fall in and out of love, get in and out of trouble, and generally have a Hollywood fantasy life that normal people will never live. Just as I had caught up on the story and began looking forward to the next week’s show, it was cancelled after only the 3^rd season. Of course, they had to wrap up all the unsolved mysteries in the last few episodes, but left viewers hanging with some questions unanswered. I thought it was the best shallow and pointless reason to watch the square box that glowed in the darkness of my living room.

I read a blog of a friend of a friend (who is/will be my friend as well) who had to put his dog to sleep recently. The dog (Brisbane, by name, Bear by affection) was nearly 17 years old…supposedly nearly 122 in dog years. That’s a long time to have a dog, but a short time for someone considered a member of the family. I know all about his loss. I lost my two dogs last year. They died about a few months apart. They were brother and sister, part lab, part chow. I remember when they were born, over 14 years ago. They were twins in color, black with brown markings on their faces and legs. They were so cute that we knew that they were the ones we were going to keep. Over the years, we took them camping, hiking, and just plain lazing around on the river. They loved water, and would jump in after a stick if we threw it in. If we walked up on the hill behind our house, they would run and run and run, sometimes to the point of us not being able to hear them anymore. Then they would find something and start barking, giving away their location for us to find them. We didn’t take them much of anywhere in the last years of their life. They were like the typical brother and sister who lived together their entire lives. They “loved” each other, but grumpiness would kick in every now and then, mostly when it came to dinnertime. It was rough losing them, but just like everything else, I knew they wouldn’t live forever.

Love is supposed to last forever. At least that’s what every happy love song and happily-ever-after tale leads you to believe. The prince and princess fall in love, move into the cold, dark and damp castle where they will live the rest of their lives in the eternal bliss of true love. We are all taught that love will endure the tests of time. Love will be here when everything else is gone, when all you know is dead, after all is said and done. I’m one of those people that are convinced that it will do as such. But right now, love has simply taken a vacation. It has gone to a place without telephones or post offices; with no way to keep in touch…off the grid, so to speak. It has taken a temporary leave while it is looking for the next thing. It may be walking to Mecca, flying to Nirvana, or just hiding around the corner. I don’t know. It is gone, of that there is no doubt. But it will return. Of that I am sure. If not sure, I am at least hopeful that it will.

I just wonder how long it will be gone and what to do except twiddle my thumbs in the meantime…