I Don't Feel Like A Train Anymore

"I don't feel like a train anymore, I feel like the tracks..." is a John Gorka song that holds a lot of meaning for me these days. This morning, like most mornings, I drive my husband to the train, kiss him, tell him I love him and send him on his way. I watch him ascend the rickety, paint-peeling stairway to the platform and watch him board the train in a long line of other, mostly black clad somber commuters. I wave one last time. Off to work and back again, most evenings much too late. Like the track, I have to watch as people and trains come and go, but I seem to stay permanently waiting for another train. Most mornings, I want to yell after him, tell him to come back, tell him he doesn't need to go anymore. After all these years, I just want to spend another pretty day with him. I want to share the sunshine and the infinite variety of light and shadows, laughter and compassion, and all the other mysteries that unfold during any given day.

May God bless us today with loving companions with which to share the light of day. May God provide us with loved ones who return, day after day, to embrace and be embraced. May God give me the strength to tell all my stories to him at the end of the day.