Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Life's a Beach







The kids and I spent yesterday at the beach. Amidst laundry and dishes and stacks of both homework and Workman's comp. print outs, We left it all behind us as we ventured to Indiana Dunes State park.






The beach was full of people. A rainbow of bikinis and board shorts at every glance.






Caiden and Savanna dutifully pushed their arms into the restricting swim wings. Mommy only has so many hands... Conner played at the waters breaking point.






Sandcastles and moats filled the next few hours as we played in the surf... Never thinking about the world that awaited us...






I watched as Savanna made friends with a beautiful blond girl. Pink bathing suit and blue eyes. She looked like an American doll... I wondered where her mom was... Savanna and American girl built castle after castle as I brought them shells and rocks to pave their imaginary driveways... Every few minutes I looked around... wondering where her mom was... wondering why she was missing this...






She found her mom about an hour later. Sitting perhaps 30ft from us... Her mom was writing in a notebook. For a second I wondered if it was a journal... Then I saw the bills float from the dividers.... I guess for a second I'd hoped she'd simply been capturing the moment in prose... I guess not... I guess there was something more important than the sandcastles that were now little more than a memory...






For a second, I was reminded of all the things waiting for me at home... the bills and the housework... the job and the investments....






Savanna smiled at me and tossed a hand full of sand towards my lap... I grinned.






Racing full speed toward my angel, I threw her in the air and tossed her into the waves. She came up sputtering and laughing, "Again Mommy!!! Again!!!"






The bills will still be there when I get home.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Glass Houses




"Those in glass houses dare not cast stones."


No one understands the truth of this statement as well as a bartender. One of my job requirements is that of a secret keeper. I know more about most of my regulars than their wives, lovers, family and friends. People talk to me.... I listen... Then, for the sake of all arguments, I forget.... No one really forgets though....


The blurry tear filled eyes of a man who's lost it all.... The whispers of regret that a desperate woman shares with the only stranger willing to listen.... The confessions of infidelity... Lies... Betrayal. I could write a novel about all of the things I've conveniently "forgotten" over the years....


It's easy, this life I've chosen... These people are my friends, and I love them.... they're easy to love... and they love me... As long as I smile... as long as I'm optimistic.... As long as I lie.... As long as I don't expect them to be the shoulder for me....


.... After all, it's all business when it comes right down to it...