CLIFF NOTES

One thing he never lost was the ability to play the baritone sax. His fingers felt at home on those keys and he felt connected as he hugged the oversized brass. The notes vibrated so deep, you would think the music would be depressing, but it touched your soul instead. That horn was maybe the only thing that was always stable in his life. Traumatic experiences left him without family and with very little. He never gave up though. He would not take the gift of life for granted - especially when it was robbed from his loved ones. And now Coronavirus would try to crumble his dream.

He opened his coffee shop two years ago when he was certain he had perfected his life’s goal - to be immersed in what he loved while touching other’s lives. What he loved was family. He missed his and the safety of his childhood which was so distant from this cruel world he faced in his thirties. The smell of coffee reminded him of his mother and he wanted to be surrounded by it always. He grew up with Paramount Bakery on the corner, and one of the most thrilling events of childhood was waking his father on Sunday mornings at 4:45am when it was dark outside and most of the world was still sleeping. They would walk eagerly towards the bright lights of the bakery where they could see the bakers parading tall racks from the back and women perfectly lining donuts up on trays. Thousands of them! He always thought it was so special that people would stay up all night baking to make Sunday so special - the only feeling that could come close to the one you would get on Christmas morning. “Those people were so kind to do that”, he always thought. “Working instead of sleeping just to make us donuts!” Silly thoughts of a child. It’s amazing how people can make you feel so special without even knowing.

Nothing beat opening the door to the smell of the freshly baked powedered donuts except the taste of the sweet cream inside the fluffy dough. It was hard not to tear into the bag during the walk home. That first bite though...the familiarity waking up the taste buds...it always seemed like time stood still. And in that moment, everything was okay and not much else mattered. He would incorporate those baked goods in his own cafe. He wanted to be the one to stay up all night to make that magical experience happen for others!

His cafe now struggling along with the only people in his life - his employees and customers - he knew he had to evolve. It was almost as if the anxieties eveyone had regarding financial survival didn’t accumulate in his head to stress him, but to empower him. He had a vision. He just needed extra money. He decided he would use his God-given talent to get it.

Ombre gray clouds seemed to be turning to a straight pewter almost rhythmically across the sky. This afternoon as he played, and the monies collected in his hat which laid modestly next to the saxophone case, there seemed to be more people than ever crowding. People applauded him. People smiled. Many said it brightened their otherwise dreary day.

An older gentleman who appeared to be in his nineties approached him - he asked the musician if he could play him a special song. Of course! Requests were always welcome. “I’m going to age myself here”, he giggled with the voice of what you would expect an old man to sound like. “‘Blue Skies’ please if you know it”. It just so happened to be a familiar song to the musician as it was in one of his late mother’s favorite movies. When the song ended, the frail man slowly pulled his wallet from his pocket while asking the musician what he was going to do with his tips. The musician replied that he wanted to be able to deliver donuts and smiles to his customers. He told him about his cafe and how he was saving for a food truck so that those who were now homebound due to Covid could still have something to look forward to as they needed it now more than ever. “The regulars, you know, maybe they need me just as much as I need them,” he said. The man pulled an envelope from his pocket. Rather than place it in the hat, he handed it to the musician. He said, “I don’t have cash, but there is a small check written out inside. I want you to add your name, and take it tomorrow to Chase on Main to cash it. When you arrive, ask for Celeste. She will help you. I want you to put that money towards the food truck”.

Immediately, as if on que, the clouds bursted and the rain poured down with a blinding force. Everyone scrambled for shelter. Just as quickly as the musician reached for his belongings and turned back around, the man had disappeared in to the building. The musician was soaked; so was the money inside the hat. It didn’t look like much, but he knew he was that much closer to affording the truck. He tried to stay under every awning possible until he made it to his door on the next block. It wasn’t until he was changing in to dryer clothes that he would remember the envelope. He rushed to open it and found a check written for $20,000.

Baffled, he went to the bank first thing the next morning. Was this even real? As much as he would love this gift, he felt confused and thought maybe when he asked for Celeste, that everything would somehow make sense. She smiled and said, “Well, I’m honored to meet you”. Confused, he asked, “Huh?”. “Mr. Jones was quite a pip,” Celeste began. “He had a special way of doing things. He had no family. He didn’t have many assets left, but he did have $20,000 and wanted not to put it in a will, but wanted to personally find someone to give it to. Someone who felt like family. He said when that person arrived here, I should hand this over with the money”. She handed him a small black notebook. She nodded as if to tell him he should look at it. When he opened it, he felt as if he was opening something of great importance, but he was still unsure why this was happening. There was a bright green note: ‘Please start this book on the very last page written and read the entries back-front’. Celeste chuckled, “I told you he had a special way of doing things”.

The (last) page began..........

I have chosen to give you this gift because you have given one to me. I am 100-years-old. I was born out of the Spanish Flu. I have seen and endured so much in my lifetime. Nothing so horrible as it has been in 2020. In 100 years, I thought we had come so far, but now I see we’re moving backwards.

The one thing that kept me going most of my life was kindness from strangers. There is something so endearing to me about doing something for someone you have never met or may never see again. The past couple of weeks, I have been nearly crippled by anxiety. I’ve known for quite a while that the end of my life is inevitable, but Covid has made me feel like I have a definite timeline and that I’m soon to be part of the numbers. Last week, when I was having a particularly rough time, I began talking to my family up in Heaven asking them to send me a sign that they will be there to greet me. That is when I heard music under my window! It was you playing the sweet sound of my childhood! My father was a jazz musician. Each note you played made me feel as if I was holding my father’s hand. I haven’t felt that in 70 years. I had memories of my mom singing along too - I swear I could hear her voice. It’s such a beautiful thing that you took your talent not just to help yourself during this financial crisis, but to lift the spirit of others. I wanted you to know that I see you and I see myself in you.

We both have the keys to this life. The first - all you need to survive are your talents. God gives them to us. It is up to us to use them! And not just for the sake of our own well-being, but our neighbors’ too - all of our neighbors. Years ago, I would have never expected a white man would be playing music for me outside my window. I have to tell you, it feels like a hug! One day people will realize the answer was there all along and they had the tools they needed to get along with one another and thrive together. Which leads me to the second - spread kindness always. If everyone cared about each other as we care about others, the world would feel whole and wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe it’s that I’ve spent too much time alone with no family. I’ve relied on strangers to fill that void for me. It’s a lot easier to keep going when someone gives you a smile or strikes up a conversation - how that two minutes of word exchange might be the only talking to anyone I did in a month - that’s priceless. It’s taken for granted by many how rich they truly are and how they have so much they could share for the greater good.

You shared your time and talent knowing that not every passerby would tip you. You knew that you would rise by lifting others because if all you did was make them smile, that made you feel your worth. I always thought it was so endearing for musicians to just unapologetically plop down on a sidewalk to play music almost as if they had no care for whether others would laugh or namecall. As if they were “taking one for the team” and it didn’t matter if their ego was damaged while they set music to the air for it to fill other’s steps with reason and their hearts with joy. As a child, I would think people like my Dad played music just so I could dance. The silly thoughts of a child. It’s amazing how people can make you feel so special without even knowing. Imagine if they did.

Soon, 2020 will be hindsight, as will I. Thank you for making me feel family in my final season. As you continue to read this book, I hope you enjoy the rest of my secrets to life...and how to always see Blue Skies. And I urge you to begin writing on the next page and one day hand this over to someone else who can keep our spirits alive. They’re needed here.

-Cliff

..........

And so the Food Truck was painted...you guessed it...with blue skies. They would be delivered every day along with coffee and donuts from ‘Mr. Jones and Me’.

...........

100 years later...

“Mommy, you said the old man with the blue truck gave you this book because you are a good listener. But you are deaf,” little Liv signed confused. “But I was given talents,” Liv’s mom began signing back. “Patience. I can read lips. I understand emotions. I care about others”. The silly child replied, “Imagine if people who weren’t deaf took the time to listen to others who need someone to talk to. They’d make them feel special and not even know it. Can I have that book, Mommy? I’m taking notes. I want to make those men proud”.