03/02/2021
Here's to the ones that danced in chucks, smoked ci******es, had afternoon cocktails, and still talk to their neighbor lovingly over the fence. Here's to the ones with wrinkled palms, and to the ones that still pull their lawn chairs out onto the driveway after a long day of work.
Here's to the greatest generation - the people that learned to fix things when they break - like cars, pipes, and marriages. The generation with iron and faith running through their now-frail veins, and the generation that loves with a kinda love that has seen the Great Depression and Vietnam.
Here's to the coffee drinkers, the ones that are still waking up at the crack of dawn because that's just what you do if you want to get it done.
Here's to the ones that cut their teeth on Johnny Cash, Elvis, and Conway. Kennedy, Truman, Brown vs. the Board of Education, and the original I-have-a-dreamers. The Beatles. Apollo.
Here's to the last of the very best.
Here's to the holy few that are left.
Here's to the people we call when we don't know what to do, which direction to turn, or how to fix it.
To the thinkers.
To the ones that just don't know how to give up.
To the servers - the ones that give so freely and wholly of themselves because they don't know any different.
To the committed, constant, and true.
Their shoulders are stooped now. They've just carried so much for so long. Their hands are boney, scarred from holding so much for so long.
Their hair is gray.
Their steps are slower.
Their time - short.
Here's to that, today.
To remembering the ones that light our way.
All the way Home.
xoxo, B.
