The strange changes of life

It is an unspoken rule of life – my life, anyway – that as soon as I think something is definite, it shifts, or changes, or falls apart.  It’s not good or bad, it’s just the way things happen.

So of course, when my friend and mentor bought me tickets for Sacramento, I naturally assumed that it was definite – set in stone, unchangeable.

Street poetry near my home.
Street poetry near my home.

Nope.  I called Monday night to say how excited I was to be visiting and to get his address (because, in this day of Internet and online, I had neglected to find that out beforehand.)

That’s when he said, “David, I have to ask you not to come. I’m very sick, and in fact the next week I’ll be going to four doctors’ appointments, I wouldn’t even have the chance to visit with you.”

Have you ever had a sense of unreality about a planned event?  A friend of mine once put it into words like this:   I couldn’t see it happening.  I tried to picture it, and I couldn’t see it.  

Now I know what she was talking about.

So, here I am, still in Toronto.  As always, in Toronto.  Maybe Sacramento will happen at some future date.   For now,  it’s business as usual.

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