Just your average holiday, white pearly beaches, aqua sapphire colored waters, a beach hut straight from the Swiss Family Robinson movie, fresh fish, cheap beer, dances on balconies and love in the sand with your sexy Venezuelan lover, really?
Yes, the last days of my life went something like that and yesterday as I spent one of my longest days traveling in awhile, I realized that Paradise is often lost. We really never sit back and soak it all in. And the craziest thing is that when you are there moments pass effortlessly and with a beer in one hand, wearing a permanent smile you don't realize what you have had and the beauty of it, until you have to spend 6 hours in Miami airport on the way back to Oklahoma.
The last 8 days of my life, with a new beach every day, warm waters, glowing skin, beers at 3 o'clock, looking into wide, brown eyes of a very passionate Socialist, with the heart of a golden retriever and the dance moves of a young MJ. I couldn't help but tear up as I got through US customs down in Aruba and feel like I had lost Paradise.
Of course I am moving to Barcelona in 4 days, of course, my life hasn't ended, but if it were to right now or tomorrow, I can honestly say for the first time possibly ever, that I would die happily, knowing that love surrounded me from different corners of the world over the last 30 years. And still, at times, we fought and other times, we sorted through our likenesses and differences over chats on Marx, family heartaches, comparisons to our friends, our families, ourselves and all in Spanglish or English or Spanish, or whatever special language we spoke.
But maybe, maybe this is just the start, maybe it is something completely different then we think. Maybe this little thing called life, obstacles, nothing, whatever it is and it's constant change and heartache and emotional heartline dashing up and down like the US stock market, maybe it's an indicator. An indicator that if you still keep going, then it should only get better, in one way or another, and that you must be open to those impossibilities that lie in the shadows.
Maybe, just maybe, Paradise is found because it was lost...
Yes, the last days of my life went something like that and yesterday as I spent one of my longest days traveling in awhile, I realized that Paradise is often lost. We really never sit back and soak it all in. And the craziest thing is that when you are there moments pass effortlessly and with a beer in one hand, wearing a permanent smile you don't realize what you have had and the beauty of it, until you have to spend 6 hours in Miami airport on the way back to Oklahoma.
The last 8 days of my life, with a new beach every day, warm waters, glowing skin, beers at 3 o'clock, looking into wide, brown eyes of a very passionate Socialist, with the heart of a golden retriever and the dance moves of a young MJ. I couldn't help but tear up as I got through US customs down in Aruba and feel like I had lost Paradise.
Of course I am moving to Barcelona in 4 days, of course, my life hasn't ended, but if it were to right now or tomorrow, I can honestly say for the first time possibly ever, that I would die happily, knowing that love surrounded me from different corners of the world over the last 30 years. And still, at times, we fought and other times, we sorted through our likenesses and differences over chats on Marx, family heartaches, comparisons to our friends, our families, ourselves and all in Spanglish or English or Spanish, or whatever special language we spoke.
But maybe, maybe this is just the start, maybe it is something completely different then we think. Maybe this little thing called life, obstacles, nothing, whatever it is and it's constant change and heartache and emotional heartline dashing up and down like the US stock market, maybe it's an indicator. An indicator that if you still keep going, then it should only get better, in one way or another, and that you must be open to those impossibilities that lie in the shadows.
Maybe, just maybe, Paradise is found because it was lost...
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