Blindsided

I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I was too busy to write and I was. So I stopped. And the camera sat untouched. But what I thought would help, didn't. The writing continued in my head and had nowhere to go. The pictures continued in my mind and had nowhere to go. They tossed and turned inside and the outcome was, well, unsavory.

So I creep back in. Slowly, feeling rusty, feeling different, so much has happened. So much change, so many hard things. But through it all knowing love changes everything and that is the lifeline to which I cling.

I lost a very dear friend just over a week ago. He was like none other. The surrogate father figure to so many of us lost children. He loved unconditionally, truly, to so many, yet each of us felt as if we were the only one. I treasure knowing him, his loss in part has led me back here.

I miss the way things were.

Music, reading and running have filled so much of my early morning and late night hours. A very welcome change. The fact that six miles can be a pleasant experience has me thinking about possibilities rather than middle age. So nice.

And new life, a whole slew of plants from the children's great grandmother in turn gives me new life. Funny how caring for a growing, living thing can touch something deep within, bringing forth hope, joy and a glowing ember of warmth spreading outward.

Before my friend passed on I found this song so moving, a lump appeared in my throat and tears in my eyes with the first few notes. But since then I'm dry, though it remains a favorite and good for a dreamy early morning run through the fields with the deer and the dew and all the spider webs spun the night before.