Slow Down Busy Backson

I am driving back to work after spending my lunch hour in a hurry picking up supplies. I am picking up the last minute supplies for summer camp, vegetarian options for a BBQ at the neighbors’ tonight, and the gift ideas as the BBQ includes a birthday. My mind is busy; I am ‘Busy Backson’, as my daughter has pointed out from The Tao of Pooh. My window is down, it is lovely out and I am listening to Rufus Wainwright; okay, I admit I am singing along with him as if I know him personally.

“He will fall from the stars, Studio 54”

Stop.

I see the familiar lights of a police cruiser up ahead, followed by what looks like traffic mayhem. The police escort a long line of cars in a funeral procession as it slowly makes its way through the busy lunch hour traffic on this main street. Traffic slows to a standstill. Lights are blinking, mourners dressed respectably in appropriate funeral attire with matching stoic expressions have their eyes straight ahead, driving, following.

Life seems to slow along with this convoy, time slows too. I am in this moment.

“Better pray for your sins, better pray for your sins”

The line of cars appears endless at this point. The funeral home is located just over the crest of the hill off of this main street, so I am well aware of the fact that traffic will remain still for the duration of this procession. I find myself sitting up straight, feeling calm and open. There is this unwritten respectful human law whereby we are to remain so, allowing the mourners to stay together en route to the cemetery.

I watch the cars pass by, I look into some of the cars at the people inside and then my eyes are drawn up. I find myself looking around at the scene. The sky is a bright blue contrasted by the white of the clouds, some parts are dark with pending rain and there is a breeze, a more than welcome breeze.

“Better pray for your sins, better pray for your sins”

A friendly looking gentleman decides he needs to cross these lanes of traffic right now on foot. He cuts through in front of my car, stops and gives me a quick wave and a smile. I nod, bemused and smile back. He continues on, managing to stop and go his way through the cars safely to the other side. He does go right through the funeral procession, although it is evident that he is unaware of this fact. I watch him the entire time. He is interesting, and I am interested. I am interested in the fact that he is oblivious to the funeral procession, I am interested in his friendly face, I am very interested in the fact that from the waste up, he appears to be a sheriff of some sort. He is wearing a dress shirt, vest complete with shining Silver Star and a black cowboy hat. In opposition, and to complete his look, his attire from the waist down consists of jean shorts, pink tube socks and what appear to be women’s shoes. And Rufus is singing…

“Wearing tube socks with style, and such an innocent smile.”

Thus my smile, my bemused smile.

I am grateful for these life moments that remind me, force me to stop, breath, and look at life.