October 04, 2004
Time After Time
I miss writing my thoughts down out here in the electronic ether. The short reason is that I had absolutely nothing to say. But that belies the fact that since returning home from vacation in June (and to the disaster that hit the neighborhood in my absence) I've been scrambling to catch up with everything. Most of my creativity and energy is going into the demands of family and work.
What energy that's left is expended on the tennis court. This season is a lot like life has been lately. Currently I'm at .500 for the season, winning some and losing some. It amazes me that I can start the first set and hit all of my strokes only to get hit with "the stupids" in the second and snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory making that dreaded third set necessary.
My performance on the court forced me into the first lesson in my 49 years with a tennis pro. I finally concluded that my groundstrokes, while a thing of power and beauty, were better suited for baseball than tennis. After admitting that the cure was something that I couldn't effect by just reading or watching videos the next logical step was to seek professional help. Amazingly enough, the fix was a slight change in grip and a focus on weight transfer into the shot. So far, so good with the added bonus that my right elbow doesn't hurt quite as much after a match.
Last week marked a grim first anniversary as Becky and I paused to remember Pat's passing. Becky remarked in a email to me that she saw rememberances of our friend in so many places. Like the plants that Pat had given to her for her garden, and the house that she had helped move Becky and her husband into. I also see Pat in the things around here; the projects we'd talked about in our ramblings, our "Rube Goldberg" approach to fixing what needed to be fixed around here, the projects that she gave her advice about, the songs that I hear.
I recently obtained an old Cindi Lauper CD, She's So Unusual. Every now and then it's nice to wallow in 80's pop music -- this CD hit the spot. Especially the track that this entry is titled after:
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles confusion
Is nothing new
Flashback--warm nights
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after
Sometimes you picture me
I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said
Then you say--go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
Chorus:
If you're lost you can look--and you will find
Me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you--I'll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows--you're
Wondering
If I'm OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time
Chorus:
If you're lost...
You said go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
Chorus:
If you're lost...
...time after time
time after time
time after time
time after time
Unconditional love was the essence of Pat, and what I miss most since her passing.
Posted by mjwoods at October 4, 2004 10:09 PM