Where Troubles Melt Like Lemon Drops

Israel Kamakawiwo’ole was a very large man with a soft, melodic voice and a ukulele. I could listen to him lull me to sleep every night and most nights lately I have. It’s like being transported to a quiet island with soft white sand and translucent waves that reach out to kiss my toes. On one side of me appears a fruity umbrella’d drink in a coconut, on my lap a book whose open pages flutter in the warm breeze and on my other side is my truest true love who whispers hazy dreams for our future into my ear.

That fantasy goes on the list of things I’m wishing I might actually eventually have room on the wish list for. Everyday wishes need to take precedence. Healthy kids, a stable job and just enough drops of sunshine in my pocket to keep me smiling. It’s not a bad way to spend a life and some days magic still finds me even here. Still the reverie calls me and though I may never make it to the beach I know that if I close my eyes right now the ocean will roll in on one of Israel’s songs and I’ll float away.