Just a normal morning in my little neighborhood as I pass the same faces with a nod as I head to the store. I’m always anxious to get there, hurry back, kiss Phillip good-bye and wish him a good day at work, then sit at my little space and knit and write. On the way there, and on the way back, I’m always looking at everyone’s front gardens. Everything is as it should seem. Everything is normal.
The “bing bong” announces I’ve walked into the store, my bandana pulled up over my face like a bandit….like some KNITTING bandit 🙂 The usual morning clerk, the same usual friendly face I have truly come to love, utters a very warm and loud, “Good morning!” with that Haitian hint in her accent.
“Morning!” I replied as I maneuvered through the aisles.
“Don’t forget food for the babies,” I hear her say. We’ve talked about the cats in passing, usually because that’s one of the few things I buy there. Cat food and cigarettes…and pork rinds. “Food for the babies is on clearance!”
So I grab a bag of vittles and head for the cash register. She scans and says with this big heavy sigh of the shoulders, “Today is the day. THE day. Finally! It will be over. All this nonsense will be over.” Someone else might easily pounce to ask the obvious question, “Who are you voting for?”
I didn’t. I’m a little old fashioned like that. I remember it being probably the most singular right we have that we don’t boast to others about: our vote. We proudly brandish our guns, we write blogs to express our thoughts, we walk through neighborhoods screaming “Black Lives Matter,” and go to our places of worship with ease when the time to pray in congregation is called. But, voting has always been that one right entitled to us that was better served privately. We walked into the booths, drew the curtains, and made decisions about the direction of our country without fear of prying eyes wanting to know just how terrible your decision was and ready to punish you for voting for the wrong person….
Instead I said, “No matter what happens, I just hope we can still be friends.” Damned be the bandana, I’m sure she could see in my eyes the genuine smile of hope, not a grin, but a dimple chiseled smile of hope that let her know I was being sincere.
She winked and said, “I don’t care who wins, I’m just tired of all the phone calls and texts and junk mail and spam….” She giggles, her purple curls bouncing softly around her forehead. “Have a blessed day, my love.”
Heading back home I realized that this was not going to just another normal morning in my little neighborhood….or maybe it would. Perhaps there will be no violent resistance to the results of the election, perhaps we will wake up tomorrow and continue with the lives we had before, the same routines, greeting each person we had before with the same warm, “Good morning,” that I’m blessed with everyday.
Because in the madness of not being able to predict what will happen, we must always be hopeful about the future. No matter what anxiety you are feeling today, it cannot keep you from feeling hopeful about tomorrow.
Life will get better, no matter what happens, this is always at the crest of my prayers: thank you for a blessed day, I can’t wait to have another one tomorrow.
To be honest, I can’t handle losing more friends. I need the embrace and prayer of more people than ever now. Whatever beauty is shared in what I write and what you read, what is shared between you and me, should not to be tainted by your feelings for someone else.
So many people left me last Election Day. Just as I was peaking with some notability, I congratulated the winner and was instantly sent into fiber exile. And it has been a struggle ever since. That feeling terrifies me. I’m already having trouble paying rent for this month, I’ve got one bear in the shop ready to sell, but that still won’t get me enough by the end of today. Like I said in my last post, the rest will have to be through prayer. Honestly, that is the only thing I can think to do right now. Prayer is the only thing left today….so I’ll use it to pray for a better tomorrow.
I started this blog 10 years ago with no understanding nor concern for where it would go. But, I discovered quite some time ago that this was where my source was, where I was able to write freely, be my self, catalogue my journey through life for anyone to read with interest, a knitter trying to stitch up his soul one teddy bear at a time. And there is a value in being able to share that, because the challenges I had in life were were heard by others also facing the same anxieties and fears.
These random posts about the life of a man who knits opened my heart to so many experiences, but none of them more beautiful than knowing I had friends.
Despite what happens today, I pray that tomorrow is just another normal day in my little neighborhood, that I will be able to sit here in this space and knit and write…that you’ll still be my friend and continue this path with me. Because, I really could use some friends right now. If you are able to help, please do.
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