“May I have this dance?” a purple moth asks the airless Sandpiper. “But of course! Let’s tango and salsa and then do the refried bean. It’s taco time!” and together they chase and run and flit and fly. “Oh, bye-bye, sweet world!” the moth whispers, as it feels the skyscraper tongue of the dashing Sandpiper lick the lavender powder off its wings in mid-flight. “Now, who shall have the next dance?” the Sandpiper wonders as it stalks upon the stalks of seedling weeds. Distracted by a flit of flurry, it doesn’t see the clouds puff along, heading to the coastline to give its blessings upon the ocean. Nor the lulling waves caressing the seashore of its native homeland. It has forgotten the taste of tiny hidden crab cakes lost between the grains of sand. Trading waves of rapture for greener pastures, comfort foods flood the yard. There is some Sushi under the trees! Beer battered fish and chips and dips litter the walking path stones. Mana’s German Chocolate cake is carried on the wings of butterflies. Cilantro Lime Shrimp rolls down the driveway. Did someone say kale? Oh well, who needs all that food anyway? One bite at a time I say. Except for chocolate nibs. Eat those by the handful! Especially on birthdays. Have you ever wondered why we celebrate birthdays? Is it just another chance to eat more chocolate while taking off our pitiful masks? We could just see each other for who we really are, if we only knew. But we forget this, so maybe that is why we have birthday parties. Let’s get out the turntable and ‘rub one off’ together, yes?
I love the saying, “Having children is like having a tattoo on your face. You gotta be committed.” I guess that is why I have mine inked in places hidden from the average persons viewpoint. I believe I would have done the same with kids, which is why I chose not to have any. My folks didn’t want kids and weren’t the greatest with me. They always seemed so stressed, so I made up that I was the source of their pain. I have no interest in passing that one on to another generation. I unplugged the lamp and remain childless. Instead, I take my lessons from my ohana family in a way that heals everyone on the stage, where we dance together in life, instead of running away from each other. That’s better than chocolate and wine, with bacon! OK, it’s almost as good anyway. I’m a believer. The beautiful thing is that we get to believe whatever we want when our parents are dead. The question is, CAN WE? Are the quilt patterns ingrained for life? Is the blanket to heavy to lift with a finger or a feather? I think the sandpiper know the answers. He just ain’t talking English. Maybe it’s time to learn Sandpiper. I wonder if he likes chocolate too? Maybe we can do a trade? Barter his wisdom for chocolate and I’ll even throw in some blueberries and banana chunks. Oh, what’s that Mr. Sandpiper? Hummm… He said he’d get back to me on Wednesday. I guess I can wait. What else am I going to do? I can make Chocolate Hearts that fly on fairy wings and then we will go from there.