Day 112, 10Jul10

Happy 18th Birthday Alicia. You'll be forever 18 to me. Not as day older. I wish you were here with us in body as well as spirit.

I strolled down to the bunker this morning. It was cold and foggy... usual summer weather. I cleaned up the old program and cranes with new ones. I also placed a dozen roses there. I always loved the smell of roses.

Curious thing, when I was about to leave the bunker, a runner came up and started looking at the program and bday card. I began walking down the hill when she caught up with me. She asked how I knew Alicia. She offered words of encourgament and support. We talked a bit more then hugged before she ran off. Just that exchange opened me up to the point that I cried almost the whole way back to the car...about 1.7 miles. The tears would ebb and flow. Just the simple act of kindness this morning was enough to lay my emotions bare. Like a scab with the emotions running just underneath.

We've been characterized as a 'sad house'. I guess that is true. We are all mourning in our own ways. Are we so sad that people & friends may be avoiding us? Are we so caught up in our world that people are uncomfortable with us? I hope this is not the case. I would hope that our friends would be understanding enough to realize we need outside support to pull out of this.

Here is a poem I had posted late March which I really like. Enjoy!

Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other Then...
someone at my side says;"There, she is gone!""Gone where?"
Gone from my sight.
That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad
shout,"Here she comes!"
And that is dying