sunrise
sunset

some mornings you wake up, taking it for granted that you did.

and, even though i know better after 15 consecutive years of sunday school and countless fire-and-brimstone sermons, i go to bed at night fully expecting that i'll live to see another day and seldom feel thankful that i did.

and on those all too rare occasions when i do remember to thank god for allowing me to see another sunrise, i often think about putting a big "thank you" sign above the bookcase in front of my bed to remind me for the times i forget to do so.

but i keep forgetting to do that, too.

this morning i got up and learned via e-mail that one of my dear friends had lost the youngest of her two kids. he had died in his sleep the day before. i couldn't help but wonder if he had taken it for granted that he would wake up saturday morning. if not, perhaps he should have. at 19, zachary was supposed to have a gazillion more mornings to express his gratitude for the blessing of opened eyes.

that's just the way it's supposed to be.

as the news of zachary's passing began reaching my former college classmates, my initial sadness was magnified by the reactions of the mothers whose children did wake up on sunday morning. they say there is no greater pain than losing a child and each and every one of them felt our friend's pain because they were all wondering: what if?

it's one thing to lose a child from natural causes or in some sort of tragic accident. it's quite another thing when a seemingly healthy child just never wakes up.

as the day progressed there were more reminders that nothing is guaranteed. my annual sunday morning pilgrimage to the larchmont farmer's market was a bust as there was some sort of street fair in its place. that proved to be a good thing though. it forced me to explore other options and while doing so, i began thinking about what a strange season this has been.

several of my once happily married friends are no longer happy or married and the ones that are still together are so not happy. michigan state is undefeated. medications have way too many side effects and are making the sick sicker. mrs. cleaver and mr. cunningham, tv's two paragons of virtue, passed within a week of each other. babies are dying of cholera in haiti. i didn't get invited to the company party. and people are still losing their jobs, homes and self-esteem even though the government tell us that the economy is bouncing back.

and now there is one less manchild roaming the planet.

it all kind of plays out like a marvin gaye song from the '70s. had his daddy not murdered him on april fool's day 16 years ago, the legendary crooner would probably have closed his eyes that night, stepped into the light the following morning and evolved into a legitimate modern-day prophet writing lyrics that would subsequently instruct us how to navigate these challenging times.

mercy, mercy me.

i could go on. there are myriad examples of things that have gone awry in this wild, wacky and sometimes wonderful season. but right now, there's no time to compile such a list.

i've got some work to do.

i gotta go make myself a sign.

thanks zach for the reminder.

peace.