Wishbone

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/4GY17y_hTnw

A wishbone was broken
I'm left holding the smaller part
With words left unspoken
They rattle round in my empty heart
Help me start to lay this burden down
On the solid ground

How many people hold the ones they love
Just like there's no tomorrow
How many people know the turning hands of time
Are stronger than us all

Time's always walkin'
I check my watch, you'd be forty-five
It seems like God just ain't talkin'
I wish to God you were still alive
Every night I wonder where you are
Holding half my heart

All the days are gone, the nights go on
Help me hear the words, "Walk on"

I wish I would have told you that
The air you breathe was everything

~  Art Garfunkel, Buddy Mondlock, Billy Mann

This one is for Allison, who today is navigating her way through the one-year anniversary of the death of her beloved husband Jim. I know how it feels, Allison, and all I can offer is that tomorrow morning, you will wake up and say, "Well, I got through that one."  I know this song will make you cry, and I offer no apology for that. Let it out.

In the 2002 release Everything Waits to Be Noticed, Art Garfunkel teamed up with Maia Sharp and Buddy Mondlock to produce some gorgeous songs. The collection marks the songwriting debut of Garfunkel, 40 years into his career, as he contributed to the lyrics of half the songs on the album. I purchased this CD shortly after its release when I was in the same stage of grieving as Allison. It offered some comfort then, and my hope is that it can offer some comfort now.

But the song does not speak only to those of us who have lost someone we love. It holds a gentle warning to everyone. How many people hold the ones they love / Just like there's no tomorrow? If you do not count yourself among those who do, make an effort to change that. Say "I love you" for no good reason. Offer a random kiss on the forehead. Make a cup of tea for someone without asking if she'd like one. Pick up his shoes and don't bitch about it. Write a poem, ink on paper, fold it up, and place it on a pillow.  (Okay, okay, just make it a haiku, all right? You can get through 17 syllables, can't you?) Pick up the phone and call someone. Wash your kid's car. Hug everybody you love who is within reach.

"The air you breathe is everything." Say it. And then say it to yourself also.