KEEP THAT TOOLKIT FULLS –
Dec. 10, 2022 – As I sit, surrounded by water in the ships comfort approaching Abaco Island, writing trails about my bittersweet holidays, 71-years of memories thick with emotions of tradition, children, husband and family come rushing, begging for my attention.
I thought those were the times of my life, and to an extent, they were. But those times were also mired thick with delusional, troubled thoughts, situations and delusional reflections of what should have been and never was. Most of all, what could have been–and never would be.
It’s Hell in the Hallway For those of us today who still feel like this, Holidays are the excuse we use to watch that sparkling, golden goodness gravitate to us called alcohol. Or there was the dripping cold sweat of an ice-cold beer we’ve swallowed to reach new heights of grandeur and to blur the edges for us between what-is, and what is not our reality.
That was my life, spinning that Wheel of Fortune as the celebration of the liquid magic gurgled to life in the glass. In a self-induced trance, I thought it held everything I could imagine for me while, at the same time, whirled as I tried to catch the spin of that last drop, never wanting the dreams to disappear. So near to me was the promise of goodness, and yet so far away.
