Over the weekend, someone who read my post, “…for as long as we both shall live” sent me this message:

“so i just read your wedding blog…really beautiful. I got the feeling you are leaning toward climbing the hill…?”

My response was couched with descriptions of family obligations as current priorities. Then I wrote, “Maybe someday…” What was lost in translation was the sound that went through my head when I wrote it and that has been with me since. The tone of the words came from a live version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Atlantic City,” when he ad-libbed the words after these lines:

“And everything dies baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.
(Yeah, maybe someday.)”

The Boss says the three words in a dismissive way, as if he doesn’t believe the hopeful lines before them. It’s understandable though, right? I mean, what dies and comes back? That “Live in New York City” record came out in 2001 and for most of the decade, its angst soothed me. As the decade drew near a close, it and other music feeding that particular emotional well became less relevant. I had grown to accept my life as it was, and let die a dream I thought it would be. The serendipity of a meal and a glass of Pinot with my son in California in 2009 punctuated the transformation. I was at peace with the road.

Since then I was stunned to learn that anything is possible and my solitary peace has evolved into sharing this life, supporting one another, and enjoying the journey together. And Love. That’s where I am and that’s where we are.

Maybe someday…