on hold...

Winter has been holding her breath, here in this cement canyon that i have become accustomed to living in. No r.e.a.l. cold temperatures, and, sadly for me...no snow. At all. Instead, it's been rather unpredictable day to day, even hour to hour. Yesterday, I saw warmer temps in the morning (so I wore my Barbour oilcloth to work, sans scarf & gloves) turning into grey, turbulent & ghostly skies; then morphing into a mid afternoon squall, which diffused into a sweet, sunny & bright, blue eyed smile...only to snap right back into a cold, smart~ass attitude. I can't tell if it's the extreme dose of Vitamin C + Zinc + echinacea I'm taking nightly or the vaccine I received in October that's keeping me from coming down with the flu...but I'm getting through it.

Really, I am okay.

I awoke this morning feeling happy...heart happy...and it's a GLORIOUS thing! Having spent the last 7 weeks in a state of...shall i say, numbing sadness, depression & sorrow...this shower of happiness feels familiar & it feels r.i.g.h.t. I knew the moment I woke up that I had been blessed with a gift of understanding, release & pure joy. It came to me in the form of a dream, & for that I am truly grateful. But for all those days between then & now, as I held my breath & lost my voice & submerged into the turbulent, ghostly, & unpredictable, I had your love, support & encouragement & your gifts. I am indebted to each & every one of you, special ladies that I can call A FRIEND.

And so, my friends, this is for you. This is my note to thank you, beyond what words can express, for shining your light on me throughout my darkness. For holding my hand, & my heart, in yours. For reminding me that life & the love of that life, after death, continues on...in ALL ways, in any form, & no matter how unpredictable. So I will hold on & continue to love that ever present S.P.I.R.I.T. of my sweet boy in a new way...& it will feel all right.

Really, it IS all right.

the deep end...

I remember learning how to swim when i was a young girl. I was in gym class & forced to jump off a diving board into the deep end of the pool. All my life, up until that point, swimming meant standing in knee deep water holding my ground while the waves of Lake Michigan crashed, chest high, into me. I liked the beach & wearing my 2 piece suits. I was never alone, always having someone to grab onto or run ashore to. & I never made it past the breakers. & i never got my face wet. Some summers the lake was so polluted with dead alewives we couldn't even walk the shoreline, let alone take a dip in the ice cold water. So standing in single file with my other classmates, all wearing the school issued, stiffly bleached 1 piece swimsuit (& for me, all too short for my long torso) waiting for that dreaded whistle to blow designating my turn to jump...just wasn't my style. In fact, it scared me. Like a cow to slaughter, i was poked & prodded & i bucked & resisted & moved back in line as far back as I could go, every time, until there was no one else left for me to hide behind...until it was just me, all alone, out on that diving board. I can still see the coach standing on the side of the pool waving that aluminum pole, whistle in mouth, screeching "Get Going, JUMP, we haven't got all day, JUMP now, you're the LAST one, now GET GOING, juuuuuuuump!" Every time I wanted to turn & run, turn & run, ruuuuun...but I didn't. & each time I'd tug once more, at my wedgie, & adjust once more, my bathing cap, & I'd hold my shallow breath & close my eyes & I'd j.u.m.p. But as soon as I'd surface, my flailing arms would grab for her dangling aluminum pole so that I could be pulled out of that scary deep end & into the sacred shallows. Twice a week for 8 weeks I feared my way through swimming class, but I never got used to it & i never liked it. Funny, I'm feeling at the edge right now. At the deep end. Again. Being poked & prodded while i buck & resist. My heart is pounding. I don't like it & I'm uncomfortable. My chest feels tight & my breaths are short & shallow. Only, instead of fear I feel pain & sadness. & I feel like running. Again. Forrest Gump-like running... running&running&running until I just can't run anymore. Until the sadness swims away.