Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Two sides of a white picket fence...

I’m completely undecided…which day should I celebrate?



I’ve never been one to bring personal attention to the single twenty four period connected to my birth…mainly because I see it more as Mother’s day. Without her, there wouldn’t be. This is what it’s like to live with the real me…I find tremendous faith in honoring the circles we keep by simply whispering, “Thank you,” during such days designed then displayed.



Along the way, a journey of many twists, turns, up hills then down, around and into caves then shallow creeks with no bridges…I was introduced to what’s looked upon as being an “Alive” day.



Wisegeek.com describes it: The date of an anniversary of a very close escape from death. People may choose to celebrate their Alive days with parties, or with personal reflection, depending on personal taste and their relationship to the events which occurred on the day they narrowly missed dying. Friends and family may also mark an Alive day with cards or gifts acknowledging their relationship with the near-deceased.



“Alive” days were first brought to the attention of millions of horizon walkers during the Vietnam War; identifying it as such has miraculously helped people deal with unexpected changes and experiences. Those who observe it believe it’s an incredible resource of positive vibrations linked to renewing a connection to being alive.



This is will be my first “Alive” day, no pat on the back necessary…I do take the time to recognize the image in the mirror. The freak has been following me since day one and even after a mess up in the plans he still refuses to leave my side. The reply is always silence…just eyes, a nose, uncombed hair and a body that won’t properly react to 100 push ups and sit ups a day.



It doesn’t matter…being alive gives you reason to celebrate the journey of an ant. I can’t imagine what it goes through crossing the driveway with bare feet on a 96 degree day. There are no beer runs, burger drop off points, IPods or cell phones to take the mind off the weight of the world sitting on its tiny shoulders…which is three sets right? I mean they’ve got six legs.



An apple tree gifted the front yard with a ton of fruit this year…still a kid inside I chowed down a few of the extremely green tart as can be’s…but never left the scene without hugging the ageless smooth bark of the apple maker, “Thank you so much for allowing me to feel like a wild child from Montana.”



I’m not so quick to race inside on rainy days. Nor do I feel a burning need to rid the planet of kudzu and poison ivy. I notice the presence of a spiders carefully designed web and the scent of a chef baring his or her soul in the kitchen of a restaurant I’ve passed ten thousand times during my 25 years in the Carolina’s.



Birthday’s make you feel old. “Alive” days introduce gratitude.



Being in love is a cool experience but what do you get the doctor who physically fixed your broken heart?



Ask anyone who skipped through life like a DVR in heat and was suddenly dropped into a pile of un-numbing drama when their “Alive” day is and was and the response will be of many with amazing storylines to go with every pill the doctor prescribed.



Favorite songs are no longer the issue, new memories are wrapped around the way pharmacists and insurance companies treated you. Sunrises are no longer a surprise; I’m often up before the first ray of light reveals a spec of dust in the wind turning each unrehearsed grip into a reason to keep reaching forward.



I’m completely decided…I shall celebrate both days. A Mother’s love shall be observed on the birthday while the image that carries my mother’s eyes and big elephant ears shall be recognized on the anniversary when he stood waiting for my return and got several days of silence instead.



Steal my art…locate your reason to celebrate every day. It makes growing weeds in the backyard one of the greatest experiences…when you allow life to exist, its amazing how many living things begin to bloom unforgettable flowers.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

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