Shit Sandwich

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I might have said it before, but I remember my grandfather telling me that life is a shit sandwich. I don't know why, but I was flying home last night and watching the world out the small window. My favorite part about flying is when we begin our descent and break through the clouds.

Returning to Buffalo last night, the cloud cover was heavy, so the break-through was more pronounced. I was dead tired. My beer was gone and they weren't offering a second. Sammy boy was having his eighth birthday and they were holding the cake until I got home. Yet when I saw life from way up high, I could only laugh at my grandfather's saying.

Life from an airplane window seems different. Everything looks as if it's in a perfect pattern. The charging atmosphere and the changing landscape lend a feeling of true comfort - somehow.

The pools in the backyards are bright blue - the baseball diamonds always look perfectly designed. Hey look, there's my house.

I thought about how complicated we make everything and how quickly time slips away like the smoke trailing the plane.

I raced home from the airport - the traffic didn't slow me down much, but I caught a red light right at the corner just before making it home.

The dogs were jumping. The kids were happy to see me. The wife looked great and the eight candles on Sam's birthday cake burned bright. He made a wish and we sang.

I thought of the plane leaving the clouds and grandpa's saying. Life might be a shit sandwich, but it's on really good bread sometimes.

Comments

Carrie Lynn Fazzolari said…
You so eloquently summed up the meaning of life in this post. It's somehow easier to get perspective at 10,000 feet -especially when you're landing in Buffalo.
27 June, 2008
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