I’ve looked at life from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall.
I really don’t know life at all.
Tears and fears and feeling proud to say “I love you” right out loud,
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I’ve looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they say I’ve changed.
Something’s lost but something’s gained in living every day.
Kampala’s are filled with the trill of song bird and my days criss-cross their choruses. It is a time of songs, of loss, of love, the sweet sting of free flowing feelings, and often song lyrics best capture this beautiful sadness I am swimming in.
This grief is a pain that consumes but transforms, the chrysalis that rips, the fledgling’s fear of flight. I am always teetering on an edge and I never know quite which way the scales will tip, whether I will fall or fly on any given day, in any given moment. I am a feather on a foreign wind.
This feeling has me feeling eons old and newborn all in a breath.
I get lost in the grandeur of the stars’ dance, the earth’s roll, and the sharp little pains of missing dad’s aftershave, the way he closed the car door.
The doors of my heart are wide open and the world streams through. I’ve lost the locks, forgotten how they fitted. I would not give this up. I could not. I am living in the fresh air, filling myself with dreams and skies. When I think of my father’s eyes, I am sure he spent time here too as beginnings and end brought him to the close of a circle.
Life gives us few chances to grasp at its essence, to reach for its greatness even as we grapple with the terror of how petty, how fragile we are.
I am very aware that sometime soon this sight will pass from my eyes and some new kind of normal will slide into place. But perhaps at least the illusions I’ll recall, and I’ll know just a little of life at the end of it all…..