Bright and Beautiful

This, lovely as it is, was NOT a sight I was particularly looking forward to seeing this morning.

I am tired, oh my people. SEE, I was out too late last night, bein' rowdy with mah coworkers at a "team building" event. (It's a burden, having to work with these people...really...don't let the fact that they make me laugh something like every six seconds fool you, working in this team is a ho-hum drag...)

I got home at the stroke of midnight...then had trouble getting to sleep...then the alarm went off at 3:30 because I have a 7:30 meeting "in person" this morning...which makes catching the 4:45 train mandatory.

Needless to say: Feh.

So I made coffee for myself and the husband - who I'm not seeing as much of these days. And I looked at my sleepy-headed mate, in his ratty old robe, yawning hugely, cat already on his lap and glaring at me defiantly, scruffy-bearded and altogether rumpled...and I began missing him before I'd even left.

This is one of those weird "people in love" things, I suppose. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the sort of sight that would make most people want to stick around. (I, on the other hand, am GORGEOUS. All the time. And also elegant. Especially first thing in the morning, in tatty old PJs that are about three years past their expiration. It's my perpetually vampire-red eyes that REALLY make the "look," ya know? Ssssssexy!)

I was settling into a good case of The Melancholy by the time I got on my train. I felt lonely, cut off, tired, pessimistic about my chances for ever feeling content again (because The Melodrama is right next door to The Melancholy).

And I missed my guy.

Really, REALLY badly. (How I would "deal" if either of us traveled a lot is beyond me. But I suspect it would rhyme with "really, REALLY badly.")

Firmly in a funk by now, I jammed my iPod earbuds into my ears and hit 'play' on a random playlist. The Melancholy possessing my body didn't want to talk to anybody about her damned knitting or how freakin' early it is or Measures E, Q or X in the blasted upcoming ballot, or tell you how her garden grows.

..I'll just be over here wallowing in loneliness and sadness, never mind me, just another lost little waif adrift in a sea of nobody-gives-a-damn...

And then, three songs into a new playlist I made at some point then forgot about on my iPod...rich and beautiful and young(er) and happy...my husband singing the lead line of a song about (surprise-surprise) beer.

It was an instant blast of Happy, and Gratitude, too.

How many people get to hear their Beloved's voice on-demand like that? Sure, it's not nearly as good as his actual physical presence, but in my mind...I was watching his show, back in the day. Watching him be in his element, happy, confident...

Remembering how beautiful he was, and still is, and how proud I was, and am, that I get to call him my own...

But it gets better, because his voice is not alone.

And of course, other voices summon other faces. Other dear, sweet, beloved faces. Some on the stage, some making merry with me in the audience, some on other stages, in other places.

They were all right there with me in my mind.

Some live (relatively) close at hand and bless us regularly with their presence (and endure our occasional assault on their own peace and quiet). Some live far away and are a seldom treat. Some have largely vanished from our lives...but still we know, if we had a need, they would come to us by one road or another. In person, in spirit, in thought or prayer.

Just a simple song. Kind of a silly one, come right down to it.

But in that gloomy moment of loneliness, when a cloud was trying to form over me and puke darkness all over me, it was like gathering the best-spent days of my youth, the greatest treasures of my present, and my future hopes together in a song.

Hard to keep feeling lonely with so much love, laughter and light all around me.

..happy sigh...

It's a bright and beautiful new day after all.

(sent from my Treo)