Perhaps this is a children's book I’ll write someday.
Or perhaps it's a poem today.
Does God drive a Subaru?
I like to imagine God as this single-dad
The dad who bakes cookies and drives kids to soccer games
The dad who doesn’t tell you to “stop crying”
or “be quiet”
or tell you you’re “too dramatic”
The kind who knows you are
The kind of dad who listens
Who heals
Who talks
Who feels
The dad who seeks to understand
not to be understood
The kind of dad who always leaves you feeling good
Even if you’re feeling bad
Because he taught you,
it’s alright to feel sad
it’s okay to feel mad
To see things that you want and you wished you had
like another mom
like another dad
He teaches you even when you don't want him to
When you try to run away
When you try not to listen but you listen anyway
He taught you how to drive
How to run
How to survive
He taught you how to fight
How to lose
How to stay alive
He taught you how to give
How to live
How to die
He taught you what you didn't even know you knew until the day when you do
That he'll always be inside
Inside sea shells
Inside plants
Inside all the "I can'ts"
Inside all the "Let's dance"
Inside the "Ants in my pants"
And the letters in my soup
He even taught me how to poop!
And how to be proud of my poo!
How to describe those big number twos -
The king of the throne
Never made you hang up the telephone
He knew you'd always come back home
He'd always lived alone
Why was that?
You asked
But he said he'd already "missed his chance"
What did that mean?
How could that be?
He told you, oh, no, "It's too late for me."
No, no, dad, don't you see??
It's never too late to be.
Free to be me.
I haven't felt this free since I was 23.
No. I don't know if I felt free then.
But I know I am ready for this winter to end.
To be lost in the sunshine,
to crawl out of the screen of my telephone
to stop living my life alone,
to feel covered in cologne,
the perfume that is sunscreen pervading my space,
Those delicious UVs pounding into my face,
Wearing these clothes - it's as if I got to have a taste.
Sometimes. I know.
What to do and where I outta go.
How to feel and what I outta know.
Can you dream without letting go?
Can you heal without being in the know?
Can you always know where you’re meant to go?
And will you actually get there, even if you know?
Sometimes I wonder.
Sometimes I know.
Who I am and where I outta go.
What I outta be and who I outta know.
Where I outta see and when I gotta go.
Does life always have to be a never ending show.
Is there a gig you’re allowed to take slow?
Can you wonder?
Can you know?
Where to be
how to let go
let me know
if you know
that I should let go
let go
I should
let me know
They whispered in my ear,
I jumped and quivered,
and they said,
“There's no need to fear!
For in a moment,
We will quickly disappear.
We just wanted you to know
That we are here.” 🧚♂️
There's got to be a reason.
A few blessings:
But,
it turns out,
doing something wrong just means you are human.
A list
Of albums I will sing
Someday
Like I will have albums
Like I'll be a singer
Like I'll get paid to do what I love
Just sing
Just sit there
or stand there
or be there
And sing
Like Ella
Like Louis
Like everyone before and no one before
That feeling
Capturing that feeling
"It's been a long, long time,"
And
"Makin' believe,"
And
"Blue moon,"
And
"People will say we're in love,"
And
"Goodnight, my someone,"
And
"Don't rain on my parade,"
And
"Maybe this time,"
And of course I'm going to have a Christmas album - I mean, do you know who I am?
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas," and "Let it snow," and "Glittery," and a jazzy musical theatre version of Mr Grinch that hits hard. I'm looking forward to it. See you then.