Absence

In the low fading light of twilight I walk on the narrow path across from my new home and begin to recognize the wonder of it all, life. It is wonderful to regain what has been lost, to walk again without aid, to smell the familiar aroma of charcoal heating steaks, to hear music from a distance, to enjoy the afterglow of joy from a phone call from one loved. These things all lost and one by one returned to me as time passes.

You could say that the “taste” of life is how it “smells” to you. It is not possible to taste without a good sense of smell. I know this now because a severe brain trauma can take from you senses. Boy, are they missed. The joy of eating taken when it is but the texture that defines what you consume. The joy of a Spring day taken because you can not smell the flowers, or the morning less thriving because you can not smell the coffee. Even if you do not drink coffee, even if you have never smoked a pipe, the memories that come splashing forth of loved ones and happy days gone by are previously awaken in a whiff.

As I walk, I type this on my iPhone and feel the light rain fall on my skin and see it dance on the screen. Pain, real pain takes from you the ability to feel such drops and distracts you from seeing the detail of life. Pain takes from you the ability to even stand, let’s forget about even walking.

God is good, all the time; all the time God is good. These words spoken to me often by a friend, Wesley Corbitt take new meaning now as I begin yet a new chapter in a once closed book. I have loved, I have lost, I have labored, now I heal, I have roamed, now I am home. Yes, life is a circle, the world is very small, our time is very short.

A fairly new friend (in real life none the less) in my life, Eric Litman, wrote a book recently published and distributed, “I Love My White Shoes.” It is a story for children of all ages, even the kid in me because it speaks a life truth; “It’s all how you look at things.” Pete the cat speaks age old wisdom often lost by even the wisest men. Stress in American life is a testimony to this forgotten truth.

And so, in the words of  Alice Sheppard, “You never know what you’ve lost until it’s gone.” Or in the words of Mac Davis circa 1974, “You gotta Stop,and Smell The Roses.” Slow down my friends, slow down and look around.  Take a deep breath. Savor the flavor of life. It’s gone before you know it.

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