The Best Of You, For The Rest Of You


The road out here is dark. Highway 95 south to Vidal Junction is a mix of starlight, and the occasional passing big rig, and me. Another day on the clock at 5 am neither pleased nor displeased with myself or my fate; feeling once again like a whore to my paycheck. The dollar is a ruthless pimp.

Give and give and give.

Can I stand on the edge of a double edged sword?  I am grateful to be able to provide for my family. They deserve it, there’s no doubt in my mind. I would give every minute of every day just to know but they are fed, sheltered, and otherwise taken care of. There is no end to what I would sacrifice to ensure their comfort.

What bothers me is snapping at my kids when I get home. Seeing my son heartbroken when I raise my voice at him, over something stupid like a video game no less. As cliché as it may be to say, I spend so much time making a living sometimes, but I forget that it’s important to also make a life. Remember, you are the Sun in someone’s sky. That someone may stand on four legs, that someone may stand on two. That someone may not know when to stop talking, or that someone may not speak at all…yet. It makes no difference – not to them anyway. The point is, work is not the Sun in the sky. No matter if it’s your life’s passion, or just the job. Be prepared to leave that baggage when you come home.

Hmm. Sunrise…finally.

Helps my mood, when the Sun comes up. It’s a reminder that everything changes. In the distance, I can see the perfect V of migrating birds headed back north in the pale pink and orange of the pre dawn sky. Everything changes, in a cycle of opposites. Happy, sad, good, bad, sober, drunk, it’s all in a state of flux.

The constant – the nuts and bolts of the thing is (for me anyway) being pounced at the door by little faces with big eyes the color of dark caramel, 1000 questions, big hugs from little arms, and smiles. They live for the moment when you walk through the door. When I walk through the door.

Next week, your job will not remember how many hours you put in, save for payroll perhaps. The living thing to whom you are everything though, they will number the extra hour you gave just so they can have the best of you.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised a little boy that I would play Legos. Snapping together little blocks will take half an hour, but he remember it for the rest of his life. That has to count for something.

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