Day 9.182 Here We Are

I fill my decades old aluminum coffee cup called the traveler. I found it in 1999 while cleaning up after a small local triathlon. I have kept it in whatever vehicle I happen to be owner/operator of since that time.

You might say that it has served me well. I would like to thank whomever left it all those years ago. If you are missing it please let me know and I will return it. Might be fun to share stories of what has transpired since it was lost, left or discarded at Buck Lake in Hansville, Washington.

I take the traveler to the counter where Walt asks me pleasantly for $1.26 for the refill. I ask if he got the news about Eddie, to which he slowly shakes his head in confirmation. We talk about the service (that just happens to be on Kona race day) and how old we are in comparison to Eddie. He is two years younger to my one. We both agree that it is way to young. But quick we both say, almost in harmony. Yes. Young and quick.

He says that day is week after his son is getting married. A start of another variety.

Terrific, I respond trying to keep the positive thread alive, I love beginnings.

Yeah, Walt says.

We have a beginning and an end.

And here we are, you with the pacemaker deal and me needing another hip replacement. Time is against us.

But we're still here I emphasize.

We are.

I open my palm to accept the change and wish him a good day. I am walking out of his convenience store as the autumn sun temporarily blinds me, and I think to myself that we all have a start and our end is as certain as can be. No-one gets out alive.

What makes it interesting is what we do in the middle, between the go as start and the go as gone. From point A to point B.

The middle makes it. I take a sip from the traveler.

Here we are.