Setbacks and Starbucks
I’m exhausted. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. While most of my posts attempt to instill messages of hope or inspiration, this one won’t have either.
I don’t feel good. I was sick all of last week, and this was on the heels of yet another birthday, which seems to always happen about this time of year.
I’d love to report that it was my best birthday yet, but it wasn’t.
In fact, for the last couple of weeks, my march through life feels pretty much just like that: a march. One foot (literal or metaphorical) in front of the next, one at a time, onward to a destination that I can never actually quite see.
Nevertheless, I decided to splurge for my 48th year of life, and went to Starbucks on July 19 to obtain my free birthday reward in the form of a chocolate croissant.
One of the things which most suffers when my state of mind is sub-optimal, is my tidiness. So, after Chewey and I finished sharing my birthday present, I tossed the brown paper bag, which briefly held my pastry, onto the car floor.
Chewey, never one to let an opportunity go to waste, quickly tracked the discarded wrapper and began to scout for scraps.
I’m unsure how he did it, but as I pulled into my car port and put my vehicle in park, Chewey emerged from the passenger side floorboard with his entire head inside of the brown paper sack which once held my confection.
At first, Chewey began to panic over the fact that he was now adorning an eyeless mask, but then after a bit he just sat patiently until I removed it from his head.
Many people might not think much of such small matters; perhaps opting to take a photo to memorialize the occasion. To me, however, this event seemed to emblematize my current life situation.
There are two words that have most defined the last three years for me: Loss and Acceptance. They are symbiotic, despite their dichotomous definitions. The days following my birthday required me to once again embrace both of these words, and, candidly, I’m so sick of the heaviness of each.
To call the last couple of weeks, let alone the last few years, “a setback” would be a risible understatement. I’ve lost so many things since 2021, and my capacity to accept further loss is not just depleted, but would be better described as non-existent.
In a memorable line from the otherwise forgettable movie “Threesome”, Eddy (Josh Charles) brings it home, powerfully, as he narrates: “I wonder how some people could be such a necessary part of one's life one day and simply vanish the next. Isn't it supposed to last?”
Play “Mad Libs” with the quote above, and insert any noun, verb, or adjective where “some people” exists; it works on too many levels for me lately.
I apologize for the laconic tone and tenor of this article, as I have nothing more to offer this week. But, as I find myself staring at the inside of life’s Starbucks bag, again, I will do as I always do and sit patiently for its removal….that should be happening any moment now, right?
