When This Is Over
When this is over, I want to go to a concert. My last concert was February 28. I sang songs that I loved twenty years ago at the top of my lungs with one of my oldest friends. We were at the end of an era, on the brink of something so wild, and we had no idea.
When this is over, I want to be free of the desire to spend money on things and spend money on experiences instead. I want to wear every piece of clothing in my closet until it falls apart, instead of feeling like I need another black jumpsuit or another pair of shoes. I want to buy art from my artist friends and keep making art myself.
When this is over, I will not work on Sunday. I will spend Sundays at my sister’s house, or have them spend Sundays at mine. I want to chase her kids around the backyard. I will kiss their sweaty heads all over and inhale the smells of youth in all it’s glory. I want backyard BBQs and bonfires instead of pandemic bedevilments.
When this is over, I want to spend a week in Monterey. I want to wake up on my In-Laws sailboat and take in the smells of Monterey Bay. I want to fall asleep in the dark little cabin cave, wake up to the sound of sea lions, walk to my favorite coffee shop for coffee in a yellow mug, and watch the cyclists toddle in together in their cleats.
I want to drive a convertible down Highway 1. Have lunch at Big Sur Bakery, hike in Partington Cove, inhale the smells of the Pacific Ocean breeze. I want to hug a redwood and camp at the Fernwood. I want to bathe under the light of the moon at Esalen and listen to the waves hit the rocky cliffs below.
When this is over I will study the details of all the smelly basements that I’ve spent evenings in for the last nine years. I want to feel the hardness of the chairs beneath my tush and take in every sound of laughter in my midst.
I think it’s the laughter that I miss the most….
I want to feel your hands in mine when we circle for prayer. I want to enjoy the sweat, the strength, the power, and the meaning of your hand in mine. I will not withhold my prayer, I will speak loud and clear, for everyone to hear. If we have learned nothing in these last 30 days, it’s that we do not know what good things we have until they’re gone.
