Going Again
Oh, boy. Another day. Another road trip. It’s back to Marathon. It’s the Marathon Songwriters Festival. This is my third year. I mark the first, in 2021, as the beginning of my recovery from the loss of my wife in 2020. I went at the urging of friends. I had no ticket nor place to stay. But the friends made it happen. Semi-paralyzed me went along. It was a good decision. Several nice things occurred.
I listened to music during the day. I played music almost every night. I hooked up with a friend who was getting into hiking. Since that trip, I’ve played more music, listened to lots, and hiked all over. We’re going to try it again this year. Playing music and listening will be the easy part. The hiking might be hard because the sun has decided to stay close to the earth and the air around us is barely moving. But we’re intrepid, wise, and if we give it a go, we’ll be careful. None of us want to die on the desert floor of Big Bend.
I have to admit I was a little wobbly about going this year. Went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I finally decided to go, but then had a hard time deciding when I was going to go, Monday, Tuesday or Thursday. Indecision. I finally settled on Monday, today, when I decided I was making my molehill into a mountain in large part because I was depressed about the August 4 anniversary of my wife’s death. That snuck up on me. Manly me, thought I was good to go. Oh, well, I’m better now. I’ve addressed the cause of my angst, taken a deep breath, and plotted my course. Here’s hoping for fair weather.