i’m five days into a kitchen remodel and the flowers are dying outside.
the air is cold and i don’t have a stove, but still the light is coming through the windows.
a friend drove all the way from england yesterday and i feel like i’m learning how to talk again. i’m learning how to express my mind, trusting the face laid bare in front of me.
i wonder how many second chances i’ll get in this life.
if i were taking my cues from nature i suppose the renewal is a lifetime of chances kind of thing.
and i feel lucky. i feel the luck.
so keep coming around, friends from england. friends from ireland and friends from roseville, friends from detroit city and friends from the u.p. keep coming around and i’ll drive on over, too.
somehow we’re going to reconstruct all the places where we prepared the food that keeps us alive and it’ll be better.
somehow every beautiful flower we’ve loved is going to die. it’s going to die right in front of our naked eyes and there won’t be a damn thing we can do to stop it.
and somehow the dead will be raised.
maybe even as soon as next spring.
or maybe not.
the clouds are floating by a bit too fast this morning. and ella rode off to school today with her face set to the cold wind.
the mix of the divine and the wicked of this world is too much.
but i’ll keep loving you. even when i lose you. i’ll weep and weep to the point of wondering how i’ll breathe again at the end of it. but we’re made to endure it. i will love with a love so free because i don’t want to miss a single wild, beautiful moment with you.
and then i’ll see you again, whole and strong.
we’ll sit down in the kitchen and talk and i’ll thrill to hear the flower of your heart once again.