now he’s one of us
plays the tambourine
breaks the bread for us
will you wait for us
will you stay for us
will you grace us everything…
…so we will become a happy ending
–Chariot, Page France (please go listen and thank you)
Typically you bring insomnia and insanity and stress, stress, stress. At least, that has been my November story for the last four years. And November, I think I missed the boat on you a year or two. This year you have me utterly enchanted.
You have brought fall, vibrantly.
And family, from afar, in proximity.
You have allowed me music, live, and how I love live music. (Note to self: go to more shows.)
You’ve allowed me photographs, oh so many photographs of people in my life.
You have allowed a birthday or two, which forces, wonderfully, the celebration of a person or people in my life.
Dearest November, it’s not that I am trying to be overtly optimistic. I prefer pragmatism. Pragmatism gives me, then, this thought as I consider you, at your midpoint today. Where one sees an abundance of goodness, the right response is thank you, thank you, thank you, to One kind enough to give a November that looks entirely different from the last few years. Pragmatism sometimes cloaks itself in what appears to be optimism, November, for we are becomming a happy ending indeed.