Almost There

Bought a leather jacket on Thursday. It cost $10. It made me feel like a million. Found it at a thrift store in Alamosa. I saw it on the rack. Slipped it on in impulse. I knew when it settled on my shoulders it wanted to be mine. I made it so. Wore it all weekend. It felt great. My shield and buffer. I wonder how it came to the thrift store. What turn of events made it expendable? I’ll never know. Oh, well. It has new life with me.

The show is over in Red River. The final songs were sung last night to a large and joyous crowd. We had fun, sang along, hated to see it end. Before the final show, I had another chance to take the stage at the Lost Love saloon. Took it. Sang one song. Edge of Tomorrow. Wrote it last summer. It has a line I like. You never know how far you’ll get until you decide to go. I’m going. Look out.

Today we go back to Alamosa for more music. Then it’s off to Roswell to check on the aliens before making the final jaunt to home. Some of our party have to deal with damage from the storm when they get there. My little home seems to have escaped unscathed. Diverging paths. Meanwhile, we all have the blessings of the weekend. Music. The company of friends. Fine weather. And I have a special bit of lagniappe, a nice leather jacket to call my own.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale