Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda

Layin’ in the sun

Talkin’ ’bout the things

They woulda-coulda-shoulda done…

But those Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas All ran away and hid

From one little did.

Today was one of several days I’ve helped an 87 year-old woman sort through a life of belongings. (An honor and many lessons learned.) Among the pile of newspaper articles and photos of her handsome and strapping deceased husband, (a pilot during the war. Wow, the stories.) I picked up the Shel Silverstein book; Falling Up. I instantly turned to the page that had the above poem. I’d say it was ironic or a coincidence or something, but as days pass and events unfold in my life- I find it hard to believe anything other than everything happens for a reason. Things, people, books- all of it, seem to show up in the most random of ways but somehow perfectly fit. Like this poem. 

Dear Mrs. F. ~

Sure I’m helping you- but you’re actually helping and teaching me things I could never learn doing anything else. No woulda-coulda-shouldas in your world, just “I did’s.” Meeting people like you inspires me to keep following my bliss. I promise I’ll never be that woulda-coulda-shoulda girl either. After all, like you’ve said- there’s just too much out there to not keep all eyes wiiiiiide open…