The darkest hour is just before dawn
Since this has surely been the summer of our discontent and hey, hurricane season isn’t over yet, I’m just going to focus on something my father used to say, he said it in Ladino and I wish I could remember the words, but the saying is that just when you think it is the blackest that is when the light comes.
So I’m willing to believe that uncertainty, lunatics, the moribund and dead aside, things are looking up because after we finish this next iteration of the adoption book, and this Sunday when we bring the family to the airport to head back to Croatia, and whatever is the next step for my mother, and who knows where the economy is headed or where we are going, after all, I choose to believe we have something to look forward to (did I mention Portugal?), no really, I mean big things like change in the U.S., more fuel efficient cars, a love bonanza (if you are willing to open your heart) and so much more.
Just listening to WWOZ and the sound of Louis Armstrong’s voice fills me with overwhelming joy. What’s not to hope for – the next Satchmo, perhaps?