One Year

 A year has come and gone as I sit here reflecting on all that has come my way. Last year was a challenging one and not just because of the accident. Getting hit by that car door, falling to the ground, feeling and hearing my hip crack like an old, dried out limb, was a heart opening experience. For the first time I was forced into a period of stasis, waiting the days out as my body slowly healed itself. Lying in bed, waking up in the early morning hours, listening to the birdsong just outside my window, that still, small voice echoing along the crevices of my mind. It is in these moments, when we are challenged, that can define who we are. I’m not a huge fan of the so called “bucket list,” because that assumes something tangible that can be accomplished if only we live just right and do what is necessary. However, having such a list can and does distract us from the here and now, of being fully present in the moment. We fail to notice the small moments of grace, the sight of the sun rising in the morning, the gentle sound of rain as it waters the parched land. Moments of intimacy and love that are there for a brief time then, like a wisp of smoke, disappear into the day.

 A year later and I am doing better although not fully healed. Truth be told, I’m not all that angry anymore, it’s now cooled to being slightly disappointed. Sure, it would be nice to have my hip back in its original condition, no daily aches, no struggles going up and down stairs, but I am here, alive. In those moments of quiet and solitude, that still, small voice could be heard and that calling to write became clearer. Not that I’m going to produce the next great American novel, but just write. Write about life, about what I see in and around me. Write about love, in all of its wonder as I watch my grandchildren as they make their way in life. Love between Jane and I as we move into a new chapter in our own lives, discovering anew the passion that lies like an ember deep within our hearts. 

On this morning, as I write, a light rain is falling, the air is warm as the birds sing their own songs of praise. I realize that moments like these do pass and that the daily struggles will be still be there, reminders that life is at times messy. Yet, I am ever grateful for each moment that I have, in the love I share with Janie and my family, and for the friends I have made along the way. 


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