What is and what may never be Sunday, December 31, 2023
It is the last day of a year I never thought I would live to see. Everything is reflection now, looking more in the rear view mirror than at the road ahead, knowing that many more miles lay behind than I can expect to tread. Everything is scattered – like the aftermath of the big bang as our lives spread out and separate from each other’s, in the end, each of us condemned to our own tiny place a vast universe, where rising and falling stars no longer apply, only that we still remain, traveling, though destined to burn out. I wake to darkness and cold, but not the frigid chill we might expect for New Years Day, but as if we have already arrived in early March and await blooming we know will not transpire for months to come, and yet hope for. I miss Pauly and Hank, even though they long ago faded from my universe and have their own place elsewhere in a space that is beyond mine at this moment, and only faith in the afterlife promises that we might meet again. This year, 202
