The Great Kazoo

Wow. Wow...

It was easy to be wise when I believed that things were going my way. Today I am struggling and confused.

But my children are looking to me for hope and I will find some. Somewhere.

There is a man. He's got to be in his 70's, maybe even older. Every time I drive a certain road at a certain time, I see him. This is a busy road and for a lot of it there is no shoulder, but there he is, riding his bike. I've seen him many times in different places along the same route, so my guess is that his round trip is at least 8 miles. I've seen him in every type of weather- blistering heat, rain and snow-and some mercifully beautiful days, too. 

​He has an old bike with no gears with a plastic shopping bag on the seat. His coat is faded blue canvas and he carries an old, worn pack on his back. On his head he wears a metallic blue helmet. He reminds me of The Great Kazoo.

​I loved The Great Kazoo. (And today I take solace in the simplicity of childhood.) 

He rides slowly and deliberately and he walks the inclines when he needs to.
 
I see him pass on my way out to the dentist and I see him on our return trip, both of us on our way home (I assume) two hours later. 

This is what he does.  This basic and simple chore soothes me this morning. His consistency and commitment inspires me.

When everything feels crazy and out of control, this stranger is my steady and I am thankful for him.

Be committed. Be reliable. Be strong.  
​
Thanks, Mr. Kazoo.

When I spotted my guy on the way to the dentist, I kinda freaked out- like he was my messiah or something. "Oh my god! There he is!" "Mom, you're being weird," came from the backseat. On the way home we saw him again and I had to pull a u-ey. I tried to take a picture but he was too far out. "Mom, we're going to be arrested!" No boys, we're good. We're all good.

Yes. Please.