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May 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Three | ||||||||||
Mike Estabrook | ||||||||||
(I have mowed many lawns in my life, I have cut a mountain of grass) I'm mowing the lawn again, yet again, thinking about my stupid life, admitting to myself how weak I feel. I'm a weak man, simple as that, and I'm lost, too, bewildered and confused. If I count my blessings there are many, more than I deserve certainly: an exquisite wife, the beautiful love of my life, three wonderful (most of the time) children, a house, cars and all the rest of that stupid material bric-a-brac, and a life-style that permits us to want for nothing but still, I am lost, perhaps because there have been big changes recently, I seem to be standing on a plateau, my career floundering again, I'm flopping about like a fish on the cold dry endless dock of corporate America, gasping for air, the children are gone, my health is not sure, retirement is looming on the horizon, but uncertain as the stock market. But there is something really good at least, I remind myself, as I mow alongside the pretty garden flowers, my wife hasn't run off yet with the UPS guy. That is the most important thing, after all. |
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RETURN to May 2005 |