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In the end, this truly touches on today, Mother’s Day. Last night I had that strange “getting old” moment, or maybe the maturation thought moment. It’s very different then the moment you plan out your life, get married, plan for children, success, the house and car, etc., etc., etc.

I sat watching the end of a film that was locally filmed and the culmination was of a wedding anniversary, and a happy doting couple. The cynic may say, this is something that’s not rooted in reality, I can even look within things I’ve seen with friends and associates and could easily be that same cynic, but rather than that, I saw myself. Strange as it may seem, I saw a time, in the not too distant future, but not that soon either.

Sitting at a table near the rear of the vineyard, they sat together. No longer in their crazy thirties, but in that age of happy medium where more of their dreams had been realized, shared, accommodated, and even experienced and past. If you asked them whether this day would come in their youth, or “second youth,” the answer would likely be ‘no,’ however, today they sat, wrapped within each other. They sat sharing an old world connection that many today chose to forsake. The sparkle in their eyes glistened as their daughter struggled to sit still. The best man, at their wedding long ago, jokingly recounted his past life with a jovial but respectful speech that brought laughter and fond memories. Soon after, her Matron of honor from that time did the same.

A cool air wafted from the lake, as the afternoon faded into early dusk. They danced, and he gazed upon her as he did when they were children, and later in life growing into an exchange of vows. He kissed her cheek and whispered something only they shared as their daughter wormed herself between their dancing. He laughed, and she smiled. It was then he caught that girl again, her eyes shown with the eyes of that girl he fell in love with those long years ago, now the mother of his children and friend and confidant. (It’s funny how similar this close is to that of my earlier piece “Masterpiece.)

Foreshadowing, premonition? Truth, wishful thinking? Who knows, it may simply be the late night thinking of someone feeling some sort of clock ticking. But it’s never wrong to think and believe in long lasting relationships, the same that many of our grandparents enjoyed, of hopefully some of our parents still enjoy. Nothings easy, everything takes work…the question is, are we/you/whoever built for that…for the right reason?

What I Learned:
-There is nothing like a mother, especially for a male child.
-There is nothing like a first born Taurus Cuban mother for a first born Taurus Cuban son. Do I overly believe in signs and the such, no, but my mother and though very different epitomize some of those fiery traits.
-Many times people are looking out for your best interests.
-Many times they are wrong in the way they look out.
-Whatever happens, happens.
-Sometimes all of the pieces add up.
-Sometimes they don’t, hopefully they do though.
-That, that, and that warmed my heart and made me smile this week.
-Being down and sick this week was unfortunate, being bedridden while sick like this did nothing to actually get rest.
-A clear mind is great most times.
-Mayer Hawthorne was the bomb, thanks for putting me on. A rarity, I’m usually the put on person.
-It is not in my soul and being to be still, or be conservative, or not try new things.
-Sometimes quiet and silence are good, even to questions being asked.
-Music still cures the soul.
-I need New York in my life.
-Conduits are good.
-You can be complete and still have something missing.
-You may not always get what you want.
-People do not always see what they have.
-People always seem to think the grass is greener.
-Take full advantage of your good parents. If you don’t speak to them, be sure that there is a real reason other than having too much pride.

The manuscript Blue Lines is the fictional coming of age narrative of a young California woman Key Yemaya Walker, and her 2 year growing journey through school, love, and life period piece, written by Kenneth Suffern, Jr., taking place at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1997 – 1998. Loosely based on true events, and experiences during that time, told through the eyes and voice of the main female protagonist, a freshman first attending the school.

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