"Oh, thinking about all our younger years,
There was only you and me,
We were young and wild and free."
Today, precisely at nineteen minutes into the treadmill at Jefferson Fitness Center, I was slapped by a loving revelation. Godsmacked.
I've been finding solace there recently, following my recent
I was a member of Jefferson Fitness Center a long time ago. I would go there after work. Escape from the stress of my "job". And "life". It is now owned by a wonderful woman who bought the place 12 years ago and has made it, once again, the go-to gym/fitness/rehab place in downtown. No memberships, no commitments, they say. And they mean it.
But, there is one commitment I have made to this place: Sanctuary.
Every single person there is in transition. Every. Single. Person.
I swim alongside women who could be my Mom, if she were not confined to a nursing home in Richmond. Precious Mermaids, these Golden Girls, in baggy ill-formed swimwear.
I see Dad in every 50-ish man who is working on his weight and on meds that if Dad had access to (and a Holy place like this) may have lived another decade or so.
And then, there's me.
Awaiting final paperwork for retirement, at age 49. Blessed beyond belief. Wondering what's next for me once the cloudy haze of what has happened brings a sunrise that not even Mom and Dad could imagine.
So, back to the treadmill revelation:
Pandora iPhone earbugs in. DJ Sammy. Closed my eyes and dragged the HELL out of:
"And love is all that I need
And I found it there in your heart.
It isn't too hard to see
We're in Heaven."