Author Mike OConnor: Just a number

Author Mike OConnor: Just a number:      I don’t walk like I did a ways back. I kind of shuffle hearing each step so I don’t trip and fall. I keep my hands deep in my pock...

Just a number

     I don’t walk like I did a ways back. I kind of shuffle hearing each step so I don’t trip and fall. I keep my hands deep in my pockets like I did as a kid, guarding my change. I look down more than up I figure I might find something that way, besides people don’t smile at you much anymore, guess they have a lot on their minds and can't express some happiness to an old man. When it rains, and everybody hurries for shelter, I walk slower looking up and letting the drops fall into my thirsty mouth. Some might say I’m a bit odd, but I just think I’m me and I’m ok with that. When the snow comes, I lay down and make snow angels laughing and remembering fun times past. I don't think about getting sick, and if I do, well I drink some good whiskey and sweat it out guess that's why I never minded coming down with  something. Life is full of surprises and spur of the moment decisions and age won't stop me from experiencing as many as I am given. There’s a hurricane coming they say, I wonder if those old wings my brother and me made decades ago are still hanging in the garage?

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Author Mike OConnor: The last tear

Author Mike OConnor: The last tear:     He didn’t recall the moment he got old. He only saw his reflection in the mirror and thought it was his dead grandfather playing ga...

The last tear

    He didn’t recall the moment he got old. He only saw his reflection in the mirror and thought it was his dead grandfather playing games again. Inside he was still a lad growing up on the streets of Dublin where survival meant being tuff and full of Gods grace. He learned to fight from his grandfather under the watchful eye of his dad, who also was taught by granddad. Mom didn’t like the fighting and got her fair share of time picking bits of gravel from fresh wounds. It was a rough life back then as he walked away from the reminder of age. He lived here all his life and saw wars against brothers who shared different values and beliefs, never knowing when and where they may meet up again exchanging blows and eventually gunshots. Like most things, time heals but never to the very core as some beliefs we take to our graves. He lit his pipe and had a seat on the porch looking out over the land he fought for and the land that would consume him when the last tear fell from his face.

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Author Mike OConnor: Sleep can wait

Author Mike OConnor: Sleep can wait:        Sleep can wait as I still have minutes to fill. Closing my eyes only brings darkness and my wish is for the light. I am tired, but...

Sleep can wait

     Sleep can wait as I still have minutes to fill. Closing my eyes only brings darkness and my wish is for the light. I am tired, but most are when age runs past you so quickly you didn't notice. Now is the time when all I want is to see my babies grow and listen to their wisdom as they listened to mine. I’m not much of a late person anymore, but I can remain awake long enough to watch a movie with a small hand holding onto mine. My slightly shaking hands can still throw a ball or remove the training wheels from a hand me down bicycle that so many happy moments were made on. My steps are slowing, but they haven't stopped so I look for chances to take a slow walk with the young ones who still look up to  me. Yes, sleep can wait there are minutes to be filled, walks to be taken and love to be shared in stolen moments in the light.

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Author Mike OConnor: In the cards

Author Mike OConnor: In the cards:      Some moments in life can’t be measured by how good they were, or how bad. Some just have to stand alone and be remembered as a once i...