I constantly wonder why the end of almost anything is so disturbing.
From as far back as I can recall, saying goodbye has been something I cannot do well. If I have enjoyed an incredible evening at dinner with friends or loved ones, invariably I request a second cup of coffee to extend the sunset, and postpone adieus.
So this morning as I was drinking my morning coffee, looking out the window at the November sunlight, and I heard John R. Gambling was leaving his morning show, I was jolted into another phase of my life.
Radio was the mainstay of communication during my childhood years. We gathered around a wooden table in the large tenement kitchen on 58th Street to listen to all of FDR's Fireside Chats, and our mornings began with John R.'s Grandfather and his trio of musicians.
Later as I rushed out to travel to Cathedral High School across town, I listened to John R.'s Dad tell me about the weather and confirm the time. Our clocks, for some mysterious reason, were always set fifteen minutes ahead, and I relied on the broadcasted information's accuracy.
John's Dad and his Mother, Sallie, were people I never met, but I always felt as if I had known them. I remember the birth of their children, and felt a comforting camaraderie with their lifestyle, as different as it was with mine.
After my marriage and upon our return to the NY area, once again I set my radio dial to 710 and resumed my relationship with the Gambling clan. And now suddenly I realize it will end.
Frankly, I am disturbed more by my reaction to another change than I am with John R.'s announcement. After 33 years of rising before dawn, he is certainly entitled to a lifestyle change, but once again, I find myself wondering why I am finding the end of something so disturbing.
I have heard the advice, "You don"t know the end of the story," and I assume it is true. Still when it appears suddenly on our horizon akin to a sudden stop sign on the highway, we are jolted into the reality of our days.
Perhaps that is why the song, "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" has remained so popular throughout the years. It reaffirms the belief that the best to come is in our unknown futures. It promises on a dark November morning that spring will emerge yet again with the glory of new growth and more sunlight.
And perhaps it is time I learn to listen more closely to the words of this song, and realize change is inevitable, and resistance is only futile. It is wonderful and amazing that despite the passage of years, each day brings a new challenge and another opportunity to learn. And I will definitely try to learn this new skill.
However, despite all my good intentions, the truth is I will certainly miss my morning's companion and sincerely wish him well, and hope his personal Rainbow only brings sunshine into his days.
