I think I am finally starting to understand,
from a year plus a bit of writing this blog,
that there are moments in life that are irreversible.
Someone comes into your life,
often in an unexpected or tragic way.
Some event happens that changes everything forever.
And you have to muster all your courage,
and move on.
Not that it ever goes away.
Every year on the same day, I plan time.
And make sure I am somewhere where I can be alone,
in nature, if possible,
to create a remembrance.
On my Dad’s day, for example, I have his favorite flowers in the house.
The purple flags, and the red canas that grow wild on the paths,
and even highways,
of their old home in Kentucky, then Tennessee, then southern Illinois.
Magical flowers we dragged from one home to another,
and watched grow.
Like the families themselves.
And I serve his favorite meal-
simple clean fare worthy of the brotherhood,
the group of believers he and his family belonged to.
A lifestyle, not a church.
He was a professional photographer.
One of the best.
He never said much.
His pictures did.
Always Beauty and Dignity.
Many years ago my first choir gave me a Christmas present.
A book about the Shakers,
And shaker furniture.
Simplicity, beauty, trust in God.
The problem is,
We are also given fire.
A desire to live.
To the ultimate.
To enjoy everything-
in a simple way.
The constant pull to do all we can,
be all we can be,
live to the fullest.
Because we have seen the alternative.
Perhaps that is the nature of our being.
I, at least, find that I am happy,
for the amazing amount of life I have been allowed to live.
All the amazing adventures.
And the ones who were in my life,
and those that are there still.
The problems will always be there.
And life, as it is, will always be there to ring in changes.
The trick is,
as I see it,
to pray a lot,
laugh a lot,
and love a lot.
The dark side will always be with us.
So will the light.
And if you trust,
and live fully,
and gather strength,
it doesn’t hurt so much
when you are given a moment of rest
in the eye of the storm.
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