On the other hand, the only relief comes from gargling with cheap champagne. I feel like a rock star.
And there were two bad falls, from icy steps onto concrete. The second one did a lot of damage.
And this is only the beginning...but as life is taken, piece by bloody piece, I feel really good about life.
What were small delights, like some late Christmas lights shining across the far side of the snowy mesa, bring a kind of fierce, untrammeled joy.
I always wanted to use that word, untrammeled. It's kinda groovy, dig it?
And then there is Labby, an enormous black Lab (over 150 pounds!) who is just now learning to walk on a leash. I'm so very tired these days, but somehow never too tired to take Labby for a walk. (He has no sense of personal space, and when he wants to pop up and say 'Hi!', brace yourself.)
I don't and can't know God's plan, but what I see, in the face of death, is Joy.
Appropriate to the subject is John Denver's lovely, sweet song Marvelous Toy.
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.