Darkness surrounds me right now, but I know light will prevail if I just wait patiently. My rooster Rufus reminds me of this notion, along with the solo song of wheels to wet pavement a country lane away. Buddy concurs with each snore, grumble and snort; just be patient.
I’m at my kitchen table (aka Tall Clover Farm World Headquarters) and I’m thinking about the last nine months and the ups and the downs that riddle my days, and I try to resolve what this pandemic has taught me. For one thing, it’s slapped me across the face like a gangster’s moll in a bad B movie, awakening me to the fact that I’m a very social person. (Insert, “Duh” here.) My friends, laugh over my reluctance to admit what everybody else already knows; I’m a talker and a listener, a hugger and a storyteller and a man who is by no means an island. I live out loud. (You get the picture).
If I didn’t have contact with Buddy and enjoy a few masking-wearing moments of chitchat, I think I would be rocking in the fetal position on my front porch. At times, even Buddy seems bored with me, gazing upward with a face that seems to say, “Do you ever stop talking? Oh yeah, and when’s dinner?” His coat is like a finely woven cashmere sweater because I brush him daily (heck, make that hourly), and check in often to make sure his every need is met. He knows I am assuredly his man servant. Well, not much change there, I suppose.
These last few months, I have never been more thankful for what is now absent in my life: family, friends, connections, simple hellos, handshakes, and hugs. I have enjoyed a life of plenty, a life of love, a life of kindness, a life of learning, and a life of being embraced by the beauty and generosity of this world and its citizens. I have it good, and it took the isolation dictated by a pandemic to correct my vision about just how truly fortunate I am. I knew, for the most part, but now I really, really, really know.
So on this Thanksgiving Day I wish you all the best this life has to offer from beloved family and friends to the hugs, to the smiles, to the shared dinners that feed us in every conceivable way. We will get through this, and we will celebrate with the effervescence of popped Champagne. And for that day, I just can’t wait, but I must. And for that I’m most grateful, for my view of life will never be the same.
Stay safe, stay mighty, act in love, inspire kindness, call your mom, be thankful.