7am phone call. bob wanting me to get to work as fast as I can to lay sand before the rain comes. i jump out of bed and let Murphy out for a pee and then get dressed. i usually like starting at 10am and finishing at 5pm. my 55 yr old body can’t take the construction work and physical labour that is meant for a 25yr old man. or a 30 yr old woman.
anyway, out of bed and ready to say “BYE” to Murphy and the rest of my family when my phone rings again. Bob saying that the rain has already started and “forget today. Just come in tomorrow.” Excited I make coffee and begin to write. begin to plan. begin to dream. day after day I wake up with big hopes. big dreams. and night after night I go to bed drunk and hopeless. lonely and irrelevant. i am very structured in that aspect of my life but in the rest I am unpredictable and confused. anxious and edgy.
cloudy and rainy. cloudy and raining. my type of weather. wanting to get to part TWO of my life but the resistance is holding me back. the resistance is slowing me down. slow the brain down and speed up the hand. slow my life down and speed up the goals. speed up the actions.
i am 55 yrs old. bald. blurry vision. aching body. hairy. zitty. pale skinned. skinny but flabby. sagging skin. sagging balls. i must have got the bad gene in our family. the short stick and the short bus.
PART TWO. the move away from the Heights Drive to the small community of Unionville, twenty minutes north of the city. one day our family decided that it was time to make a move. a move away from the crappy complex of the Heights Drive filled with young British immigrants to the small community of Unionville with it’s farm fields and dead end roads. cows and sheep. new homes. new friends. new starts and new sports teams. new schools. new teachers. everything new. everything new. everything new. except our family was the same. our family was still happy. our family was still young. our family was still together.
FOR NOW.
notanotherphony. 