My eyes were watering so much that my mascara ran down my cheeks like some weird version of Alice Cooper or Ozzy or maybe Rocky Raccoon. I laughed again loudly and happily when he pointed to the black pool of make up circling my left eye and smearing my left check bone. I always laugh. Life is just easier that way, and I decided that about laughter and life long ago. The only thing I don’t know is this, how do I let it flow now that I don’t need the laugher as much but it comes so much more easily? I have learned not to judge but to “be” as my first great teacher after my parents and aunties and uncles left my immediate circle of influence. Just be. What a lovely phrase, but it was a phrase that remained a mystery to me for many years. Life is here in the now, and that one fact that I have acquired is now my motivation most days for the smile and the laughter. It can only get better if I choose it. So, in spite of the “aches and pains” of age creeping forward toward me, I smile and laugh. It is as it should be.
It is as it should be. Laugh.
At times, when the Spirit moves us, there is little time to respond, react, or contemplate the moment. So, at some point, we go with the flow… the water, the wind. I watched my daughter and my new man whom I hope to “marry” at some point in the future react in similar fashion to slightly drunken and obnoxious lake folk at “our” semi-private rocky beach at the lake. I was bemused and amused by my daughter, who much like me, loathes the interference of others in a private moment, and my man, who is a provocator in his best “on” behavior when his reclusive nature is challenged.
I resolved to gently and yet pointedly ignore the three deck boats and one pontoon boat moored together in our cove, full of children in life jackets and floating around the boats with abandon and ignored by the adult joy, and amusingly half drunk adults –men and women—who where trying to blast us off of our “rocky beach retreat” with alternating pop rock, counrty, rap, and various very inconcruous artists …not knowing that my daugther and myself were quite hip to all music variations, while K was asking in his loud, brash Chicago style to play “some real music” like Dylan or Led Zepplin–met with more alternating of blasting and quite tunes. All music was alternately blasted at one moment and then softly played in another —all types intermingled with my old favs Madonna, and Beyonce. To be sure, it was a wasted effort to chase us off, but we felt the urge to leave before the other adults and the waif children who had moored there had departed…and in the interium we had all learned it was one of the bleached blondes’ 40th birthday. Well, how to do to you, my lovely 40 year old mom? I sighed to myself, wow. Grab 40. It will leave you soon. It always does—quickly and with no regret on the time clock of life. The Kids… our dogs… got their swim, and I and my daughter and K were left laughing and smiling on the drive home in K’s Polaris Ranger Four Wheeler. Life. … try it at 53. This is the bee’s knees. The BEE’s KNEES. 53. Rocky Beach, and life and love.