The sun rises and sets and our days move on with little news from home.
Gentle days before the attack of computers and the insistance of cell phones are almost so distant it is purposeful to surrender to them.
It is abrupt and not so kind.
And suddenly it is here. An interruption into the peace of life that is certain for us all, but easier to bear for yourself than the one you love.
But the list continues, because without the list there is surrender of another kind.
the remembrance that wellness is a gift
there is a greatest Healer
knowledge that besets wisdom that besets kindness
the soft gentle rain that waters the plants placed under the eave
rocking chairs
chicks that find a home in the cup of your hand
apple green plastic tumblers
the crispness of a new Sharpie
baby toes keeping me awake
the understanding of a friend that understands why you are different
the cotton turquoise gift from Mama
the joy the new black dress brought her
she goes, so I don't have to
tears shed for other mamas as they watch them go from here to there
and finally . . .
knowing, even when the unknown is hovering
One thousand gifts, # 34-49.
