At any other time, one would think nothing of my title. Because of the election that just happened, maybe I wouldn’t blame you for thinking it was about that, but the election is what gave me pause to think of my life thus far.
More often than not these days, without warning, I am pulled into reverie. Photos that aren’t necessarily that old, and songs as well, memories, crack this veneer of positivity and looking forward, and I am down the rabbit hole of maudlin.
The thing is, I allow the trip back. It is a sort of catharsis, but I’m sure my therapist may have something to say about not always looking back and about looking forward.
Music playing. There is always music playing. And I am brought back to my time in the University Chorale in the mid to late 90s on Guam. Part of those thoughts is also that I am no longer on Guam. I was watching the choir of Trinity College doing their rendition of “How Do You Keep the Music Playing.” I love that piece. Right after comes the song “Pagdating ng Panahon.” For those who don’t speak Tagalog, it’s “In Time” within the context of the song, but literally, “when the time comes.” The music transports me to various places in time, in space, mostly memories of growth, and where I was in life when these things happened, and where I am now, not knowing or even understanding or planning any of it, yet here I am, and the willingness to open oneself to possibilities.
I recall an interview with Dave Chappelle, and one thing stands out for me. He said that as we get older, we get more of those phone calls. He was referring to calls about the passing of another friend. Maybe that’s where my mind is once again.
I keep thinking back to Dad. Just recently, I thought about COVID, all of the things going on in the world, and currently the war in Iran. I thought about our own household and the challenges since Dad passed, the bakery on Guam and my slow departure from it, my first trip to Europe ever in 2023 and meeting Lyn, who would one day be my life partner, and then the bakery celebrating its 50th anniversary.
I’m not dwelling on my mortality, nor am I celebrating it. I’m merely beginning, maybe, to understand the importance of any number of lessons Mom and Dad gave me early on in life. I’m also not regretting how my life has been lived. I am who I am because of all those decisions in my life.
Maybe I’m once again feeling maudlin, and now I get why so many of the seniors I spoke with through the years always waxed philosophic, if you will, and reminisced. It wasn’t so much that they wanted to be young again, though maybe a few did, but it was a recounting of the life that came before, a recount of all that they had lived through, and maybe that’s what I’m doing now.
All the twists and turns that have made my life my own, the ups and the downs, the cringe parts, as the kids say today, and the parts that were a celebration.
But for all of it, it was mine and mine alone, and no one else is to blame, but many certainly are part of the celebrations I was able to achieve.
