That lyric from “Annie” is running through my head;
“The sun’ll come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun.”
At this point, I have to point out that even in sunny California, with the rain we’ve gotten this winter, I’d be reluctant to “bet” my “bottom” dollar on sun. But, somewhere, it’s a certainty there will be sun.
But in that song, it’s the line that ends the stanza that stands particularly prescient;
“I love you tomorrow, you’re always a day away.”
What happens though, when that “day away” is one day too far?
At some point in time, I guess we all contend with the realization that our tomorrows become more precious since they like most things are ‘numbered’. What is one to do when that realization hits?
Is it time to confess our sins to the deity? Are we to throw caution to the wind and “really” live? Or do we settle resignedly into our fate?