Stop Sign

As I pull out of the drive empty headed like we all do,
Adjusting the mirrors, turning on the seat heater, hands unconsciously making a right turn onto the street.
The thoughts fill the emptiness.
You know how it is, not from a center but from a cloud, a mist of nothingness.

“Got to remember to pick up three bags of black mulch for my wife.”
“Should I text my buddy about his new job?”
“Wait, did I just off-handedly tell my wife it was her idea to get the dog?”

Please understand we’ve always had pets but we’re free now.
No more kids at home, no more business to run, no more sweating our next dollar.
The less I do, the less I do.
Not proud of it but a new puppy means more not less.
And how can we travel?

Still it’s been a couple years and I do love our bernedoodle.
He’s the first dog people ask, “What kind of dog is that?”
“He’s a bernedoodle, a mountain dog, you should see him jump.”
“Oh, he’s adorable.”
Not sure why I always feel so good about that, I really had nothing to do with it.

I am still driving without paying attention, avoiding cars I only see in my mysterious computer that controls my heartbeat and breathing in the same way.
I’m sure you understand, how a stop sign brings me back to the scene in front of me.

It would be nice to have a stop sign pop up in that magic neural network in our heads before we say something stupid.
Don’t you think that would be cool.
I could have stopped before I blurted out that two-year-old like response,
“It was your idea to get the dog.”

Turns out there is a heaven and hell except it is all in the same place.
It’s here and now.
It’s the latest news of a hospital destroyed in war, a twelve year old shot in a drive by shooting, an executive caught bribing a government official.
A beautiful grandson being handed to you for the first time, white flowers with shades of pink blooming in the front bed, sitting around a table drinking chocolate martinis and laughing with friends.

“Sorry I said, it’s your dog.”