You see those two old guys behind me?
As soon as they sat down I thought of my friend Rob.
We’ve been close buddies since the 7th grade and that’s like 900 years in dog years (37 in human years). I don’t know how often these two get to see each other at Starbucks but Rob and I meet up for a quick coffee, which ends up turning into two to three hours, nearly every week.
And I thought of Rob as soon as they sat down because I can just picture us at that age, sitting across from each other as old men with our cups of coffee, shaking our heads in disbelief at the time that zipped by as if someone pressed fast-forward on that old yellow walkman I used to have.
With wrinkled faces, loose skin and white hair, we’d certainly say to each other, “What the hell happened to us?”
And that almost made me cry while I was sitting there at Starbucks today. Thinking of being old. Missing our youth. The end approaching sooner than later.
But just then, out of the clear blue, the universe baptized me in the waters of perspective and before my mind made tears through some sort of alchemy, I was caused to think, “Wait. If my best friend and I still look relatively healthy like those two, and can still laugh lightheartedly like they are, it would be a goddamn gift. We’d be so lucky.”
I also thought about how my dad never got to grow old with his friends. And I thought about the 812,205 Americans who have died, so far, from covid. And about those kids who were killed in that Michigan school shooting the other day.
(I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes trying to find a way to end this piece but everything which needs to be said was said two paragraphs ago. But with that, I’ve been listening to Abbey Road as I type away to you on my ipad and within the last few seconds the lads sang, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” So, let’s just leave it at that. I love you all. No, for realz I do. )