Today is one of those days where I could (figuratively) burst with emotion, mostly in a joyful way. My husband is back from Turkey, relatively none the worse for wear (there was an incident involving a scorpion sting and a trip to the hospital, but he’s a-okay aside from lingering swelling), and is now spending time with his family in Chicago. He comes home on Sunday. My friend, Laurie, was in Los Angeles Monday and Tuesday for a quick visit while en route to Australia, so we had food and convo and that was awfully nice. I’m having lunch with a colleague today and it’s absolutely glorious outside, so I’m hoping I can convince her to sit on the patio with me.
I could go on along those lines.
Yet, as the weather starts its bend toward fall, I’m feeling a little less than present. Fall is my favorite time of year, but that “border” between summer and fall always reminds me of my mother being sick, her cancer diagnosis, and then her death in late September. I have a definite love/hate relationship with this time of year, and that push and pull usually makes me feel drained and discombobulated. At least until I can recognize it for what it is, call it out by name, deal with it, and move forward.
I also have some dear friends who are hurting as I type this, and I wish I could make it better.
“Hey, let your honesty shine, shine, shine. Like it shines on me.” – Paul Simon, The Only Living Boy in New York
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