this sun-whore has migrated for the winter. the elmwood coffee shops no longer hold the sun on late saturday afternoons after the bookstore so now i stop by crixa cakes. while crixa’s tiramisu and pink hungarian cakes sail my soul around the world, the shop itself is quite close to home so i don’t have far to travel as day turns to dusk as i sip my coffee.
it’s not an easy thing to admit, but i am full of regrets. i can’t tell you how many times in my life i did not know i was doing something for the very last time. when i gave birth to my daughter i did not know that i wasn’t going to grow up, live happily ever after, and have more babies. i didn’t know the last time i spoke to my dad long-distance was the last time forever. and not knowing it’s the last time i will kiss someone. but then sometimes it’s not. one of my oldest friends gently pointed out that we are not supposed to know and we should live our moments with more appreciation. he is right and i think we do value our lives more and more every day as we age.
but i did know that this saturday was my last day volunteering at the bookstore. i’m working full-time now and am feeling a little drained. i’m not one of those people that needs to fill my days with activities and the combination of all the personalities i labor with every week plus the characters who demand my attention on both sides of the counter at the bookstore was sometimes overwhelming. i was worried about letting my co-volunteers down but they couldn’t have been sweeter about my leaving. my manager said they will miss my ebullience, there were hugs & handshakes, and a vintage valentine was discovered in a donated book. today i sit in the sun at domingo street peet’s (which used to be a train station) and a young couple gives me a pink flower because gosh darn it they liked me. and it looked good with my tattoo, he said. i am really good at sitting pretty. doing nothing.