Reflection
Some days, like today, I stop cleaning and just stand in front of the window in my front room and stare at the cars driving by and the birds over head and the occasional cloud or two that float past and I think about my past. Everyone has one. They are full of many happy memories and many sad ones. It is days like today, when the grass is wet from a recent rain and the wind is so light that it's like a kiss, that I wish there was some way to make all of my memories happy. I stand there for an hour or two just staring out at the world beyond my front door and wondering if there is some way to fix my mistakes and mend my burnt bridges. If perhaps there is some way to go back and apologize to old friends or give back something that wasn't mine to begin with. I do of course focuse on some things more than others and it is those things that when I lay in bed at night and toss and turn and try to sleep, seem to seep to the surface and haunt me like waking dreams. Or nightmares I should say.
Perhaps one of these days, when I am not so rich, nor so famous as I would have liked to have been when I was a child, I will set out on a journey to mend my crumbled walls. I will repair my burnt bridges and I will once again feel whole. For I cannot be whole without this.
I can do my best to forget. Have children. A home. A life. But in the end, upon my death bed, I will still remember these things and I will feel as though I am not done with my work in this life and maybe I can fix them in the next. Maybe they are unfixable. But I would like to believe that I can die with a sense of fulfillment and happiness.
I know that there are people out there, whom I wish to apologize to or make up with, and they will shoot me down. But knowing that I tried is all I want. Even if I cannot accomplish what I set out on, at least I gave it my best.
So days like this, when I stand in front of the window in my front room, staring at the cars going by the rain drenched grass, I wonder, will it happen tomorrow or can I do something about it today?
Perhaps one of these days, when I am not so rich, nor so famous as I would have liked to have been when I was a child, I will set out on a journey to mend my crumbled walls. I will repair my burnt bridges and I will once again feel whole. For I cannot be whole without this.
I can do my best to forget. Have children. A home. A life. But in the end, upon my death bed, I will still remember these things and I will feel as though I am not done with my work in this life and maybe I can fix them in the next. Maybe they are unfixable. But I would like to believe that I can die with a sense of fulfillment and happiness.
I know that there are people out there, whom I wish to apologize to or make up with, and they will shoot me down. But knowing that I tried is all I want. Even if I cannot accomplish what I set out on, at least I gave it my best.
So days like this, when I stand in front of the window in my front room, staring at the cars going by the rain drenched grass, I wonder, will it happen tomorrow or can I do something about it today?