A different day, a different road.

I ran into him in a pizza place. Not a proper pizza place but one with a kiddy area and buffet line.  TVs blared in the background playing an array of current forgettable sporting events and cartoons. I was weaving my way toward an open table before anyone else could claim it when he spoke my name. 

In another life he had been a good friend and the father of one of my daughter’s good friends.  He was one of the few who stood beside me when others believed the worst.

I relinquished the table to another and smiled at the couple who were obviously nearing time for the desert line.  We exchanged ‘what if’s and ‘remember when’s and ‘how are you doing’s while I held my food laden tray above the head of a rambunctious child who was waiting to abandon food for coin eating machines.  Out the corner of my eye I saw another in my large family party snag a couple of empty tables.

With the family seating secured, I took time to really look at my friends. My, how they had aged; they were looking quite old.  Well, yes they were old.  They had children my age as well as the age of my daughter who was now grown with children of her own.  It was obvious, now, that the recent years had not been kind to the man. At a break in the conversation, the woman said “We need to let her get to her food before it’s cold.”

I smiled and said I was glad we’d had a chance to catch up.

Then came the dreaded question from the man: “So where can I come and hear you play the piano?” to which I replied that I only played for my own enjoyment these days and didn’t think my playing was fit for public ears anymore.

He replied, “You were the best I ever heard. I have always hoped I could hear you play one more time before I die.” 

My heart caught in my throat and I replied “You’re too kind, but that’s just not my life anymore.”  His eyes clouded and soon I was with my noisy, happy family downing more food than should be consumed in a single day because it was a buffet.

I’ve often thought of that encounter.  It was the last time I saw my friend.  Several years later his daughter told me of his death.  I felt a kind sorrow that I never got to play for him again.  So many things have changed in my life.  Through the years life has moved me in and out of abilities, opportunities, difficulties, and blessings.  One thing I do know is change happens.

For awhile I tried to force the music to come back.  A friend with whom I had shared musical moments told me it would when I ceased to need it so badly.  He recounted a story of his own struggle with music and how when he relaxed and accepted who he was and how he was created everything fell into place.  Well that’s not my story.  What’s funny is that recently I ran into that friend and he has moved out of the ‘music’ scene completely.  What I will say is that I still love music and I still enjoy the times when I sit on my own accord and allow it to wash over and flow freely in time and space.

I’ve done many things –some of them I’ve done well.  I’ve learned to lighten up.  I’ve learned where the disputable things lie and how to allow myself freedom to live life the way I believe it should be lived without pressure, just because.  I’ve learned to identify the indisputable truths and value them regardless of the society I live in or the images and ideas I’m constantly fed by media and others.  I’ve learned to center down and refocus.  I’ve learned to realign and trust.

Mostly I’ve learned that this day is different.  It is the only now I get. This road inside me is mine to travel and I will not pass this way again.  I’ve learned that’s okay.  God is big enough for tomorrow as well.