This is a fine Spring day here in the Nation's Capital. I had a thought this morning. I have these sometimes because I am a thinking person. Is this life that we are living a continuum of spiritual energy that will endure long after our earthly bodies disappear? What's the difference between your spirit and your soul? Why do we have de ja vu? Are we resting already in death and witnessing our past lives? I sometimes fantasize about my "past" life and imagine that I was here before.
Wait! It's all coming to me in a vision! I think that I was here in America, but I was an immigrant. I believe that I lived in New York or Chicago? I had a love for spicy food, Jazz and stygian after hours spots. As a matter of fact, I was a musician. I wasn't big time though. I played in a couple of local spots around town. I sat in with a couple of big names when needed. I had a terrible nicotine and vodka habit and a thing for voluptuous Dominican women. I settled down for a bit. I started seeeing this woman that lived on the south end of town. She was a Black woman named Sara. She'd just moved to town from Georgia. We spent a great deal of time together. Things between Sara and I got heavy and we moved in together. It wasn't too long before I got her pregnant. We had a daughter. She named our daughter Carmen after Sara's favorite singer, Carmen McCrae. I liked the name. Time passed and Sara and I starting fighting more. We grew further apart. I was always gone and I usually slept all day until my next gig that night. Sara grew tired of my drinking and absence and moved away with Carmen. I never got word of where they went. I always thought that she headed back to Georgia where her parents lived.....Savannah I think, but I wasn't sure?
Years went by and I spent years playing gigs here and there until I found religion. I cleaned myself up and started doing work with a neighborhood church. I was getting older and soon could not do the foot work because of my arthritis. I retired to my apartment and soon had to be relocated to a retirement home at the age of 68. I had spent 3 years in the retirement home until one day I was told that I had a visitor. She was a young woman with a yellow dress on. As she came closer I began to see Sara's face? She came up to me and touched me on the shouldeer. "Hi daddy," she said in a low, but sweet voice. My mouth fell open. It was Carmen! She was a woman now of 28. She was beautiful. She looked just like her mother when we first met. She said that her mother finally told her where I was and how she could get in touch with me before she died. This made me sad. I loved Sara. She was too good for me. Carmen got a place in the city that she could afford and came to visit me often. We grew closer as time went on. She was the final chapter of my life and could not have wished for a better ending.
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