Time Changes Everything

3 pm is neither time for lunch, nor dinner. In the cautionary world of Covid , it’s a respectable time to get a cup of coffee at a diner, bear-ly full of anyone. A quiet time for a cyber friend to materialize. A stranger, species unknown. Nothing much happens at 3 pm around home. Oliver is usually restless, knowing his 4pm dinner is right around the corner. By 3 pm, the day has become what will be documented in my personal journal. 3pm is neither time for lunch, nor dinner .

Waiting in the parking lot, so many thoughts swirled in my oceanic brain. Mental tides, ebbing back and forth over tide pools full of things needing to be done and undone. Wrongs. Rights. Truths that just needed accepting. Opportunities missing and missed. Full moon brain waves streaming, enhanced by 80’s songs on the radio, I watched cars flow East and West on Main Street. Everyone hurrying to squeeze the last little bit out of the day before nightfall. I sat waiting patiently, being one with a moment of thought.

There is a time for masks and a time to take them off in this Covid adventure in which we find ourselves. Arrival and introductory niceties finished and with the help of the sweetest waitress, we were guided to our table. The time, about 3:15pm. There, at that table, the beginning of a new moon cycle began. The topics flowed easily at our table by the window. In the beginning, sun wasn’t an issue until it was necessary to lower the blinds a bit, as it dropped in the Western horizon. Ebbing and flowing, the words never stopped. Back and forth. Coming forth, sharing information that took us back to important times in our separate lives. Talking and listening. Listening and talking. The moment took center stage.

The waitress deserves a huge tip. I plan to return today to add to that and hug her. I may even speak to her manager. Adorable as she was, she kept us in liquid and food. She smiled ever so sweetly sensing this table was just a little different. After the 4th or 5th attempt to take our order while getting nowhere, she simply told us to flag her down when we were ready.

I guess there was a 4pm and a 5pm yesterday. Pretty sure of it, because by 5:30, the blinds didn’t need to be down anymore. Darkness had settled. 6 pm? 7pm? By this time, I think I had eaten an egg, some bacon, and toast. Way too many cups of coffee were consumed. As late afternoon flowed into early evening, the hours ticked away. I found out so many interesting things about this person, his species seeming familiar. The waitress totally gave up on us, we, the couple that had taken over the table by the window. 8 pm? Still talking. Around 8:30 pm, or so, with reluctance, we needed to leave the table by the window, to sneak into the night and back to our own lives.

The time change has been very hard on me this year. Added hours of darkness have set me on edge, increasing my anxiety about the approaching depths of winter. Moonlight through a harmless apple tree plays like a Stephen King-ish movie through my bedroom blinds. Bitter winds have arrived, along with frigid loneliness. Affirmations of personal success and happiness fill the void and keep the jackals of despair at bay. Creating and attaining my unique dreamscape is now MY responsibility, and I am finding it is yet another skill I possess.

Around 8:30pm last night, a gentleman escorted me to my Jeep Wrangler, opening the door for me, after meeting for coffee at 3 pm. He stood well within my personal space and yet didn’t overstep any boundaries. With a brief and respectful hug, the night swept me back home. Hard to say how long we could have talked without revisiting stories of travels, life, family, and memories. We are two extremely interesting, well traveled people that enjoyed coffee and a late lunch/early dinner, at 3pm, when nothing much ever happens. I have identified his species as Friend. I, too, claim Friend as mine, because in life as I know it, there is nothing more important that that.