The last 18 months of my life have been a whirlwind of devastating sorrow, flashes of the type of love that take your breath away; mixed with a fair amount of mediocrity.
I lost my father. I gained a neice and grand-nephew. I returned to the only home I ever knew, and came back to the one we made for ourselves. I drank too much. Secret engagements, secret parties, secret agendas, secret shops, secret moments. I sat in awe of my family. I marvelled at Christianity. I laughed. I spent one New Year’s Eve with the most amazing women to inhabit this earth, and the next asleep in my bed on the other side of the world. I cried. I came to the realization that everyday you are living you are also dying. I spent weeks in hospitals and studying medical journals. I fully came to appreciate the sixth sense of dogs. I decided to go back to school. I played Wii. I smashed the side of the van in on a parked car. I didn’t sleep for days at a time. I sought out the companionship of friends, who never let me down. Wawa coffee. I tried to understand, and had fleeting moments when I actually did. I embraced my imperfections. Never stop learning. I meditated and saw a waterfall. I played Risk. I put my life on hold, and as a result learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. I engaged in intelligent conversations. I put on a happy face, and actually started to believe it. I embraced technology. I listened. I became comfortable with the notion that ‘I’ was, more often than not, translated into ‘we’. I witnessed first hand the beauty of birth and death.
…Don’t Know Where I’ll Be Tomorrow