Now

I haven’t posted in a while. None of the ghosts in my heart have rattled their chains or pulled at my heart strings demanding their tales be told.

It’s late at night now. Or rather, early in the morning. My favorite time in the summer. When the world is quiet except for the sound of singing crickets, and there is this feeling of being completely alone. Not alone in a bad sense. An aloneness I revel in. I cherish.

I read Edy’s blog tonight, and cried when I got to her speech at the benefit. About the freefalling. It was (and is) beautifully said.

Things are good right now. It’s okay that William is off in the wilds of Washington, and that I’m not waiting for him. I’m even willing to move on, though I haven’t found the next stone to rest my foot upon. But things are good. Just good. The kind of good where you can sit and smell the night air and think, “This. If this were all there was, it would be enough.”

I’ve found in my life that it’s the little things that get me. Both in the good and the bad ways. The smell of night air. Baby ducklings walking on lily pads. The pain of petty incidents adding up like the straw on the proverbial camel.

The big things, I can deal with those, even when they set my life in a whirlwind for a while. Whirlwinds pass.

I think when I’m dying, I’ll be able to look at my life and know I didn’t miss the roses on the path. Of course, I missed some of them, but a lot of them I’ve captured. I’ve kept them in a box in my mind like a pirate’s treasure. And this is good.

Treasures for my heart.

Lily