Chilly night, and I’m substituting the warmth of Her touch with green tea and the sweetness of Her kiss with honey. They are ghosts of the real thing, but the memory is still clear. Sharp and silver.
Good memories. Happy memories.
I’m not broken, I’m not fragile. I found strength and love within, and I’m building on that foundation.
The smell of fall in the air and in my mind I’m back home.
Alone, but not lonely. Discovering myself (again) in the solitude.
Tea and Honey.
And it’s enough.
For the next couple of weeks this blog will be my only communication to ‘fans’ and casual friends. I’m focusing heavily on the reality in front of me and enjoying life and love and joy as best I can. I’m immediately available to family and close friends via phone or text … so I’m not completely disappearing. This blog may be updated every day with ‘end of day’ musings, or it may be really sparse. I don’t know. I’m absorbing where I am and I’m focusing intently on me. Selfish? Yeah, probably … but I need it and so be it. I love you.
I’m turning fifty next week and, other than occasionally saying to myself ‘I’m turning fifty next week’, it doesn’t affect me. I’ve lived and will continue to live an extraordinary life. On my fiftieth birthday, I’ll be away from the people I love most dearly, competing in a magic contest. I can hear the voice of my father right now: “What kind of man …?”
So, I’m going to focus on the now. Living and learning and spreading the joy I’m able to … just NOT on social media.
Friends? Reach out in love to those you care about. Mend fences, rebuild bridges, find love and understanding. That’s what I want for my half-century birthday present. Healing. Love.
Someone earlier asked my about my ‘happy place’, my ‘peaceful, thoughtful spot’.
I’m young … just starting to have questions about the world around me. My parents were still happy with each other. Grandpa Jack is still alive.
We’re sitting in his usual, favorite spot. Three quarters of the way down Scotch Bonnet Pier. It’s a hot summer day, but the breeze coming off the ocean is cool. I can feel the power of the sea, moving the pier and tugging gently on my fishing line.
Moving water. Distant sound of the surf.
I can smell the sea salt, the fresh fish we just caught, now chilling in ice.
I can tilt my face up and feel warm sunshine. I try to imagine how high the sky is …
Lately I’ve forced myself to be alone. A lot. I think about You. A lot.
The ocean is still there, the sky is still there. Everything else has faded into time. The horizon … is no closer.
There is peace in these memories. Hope.