And We Arrive...

...in one piece, if not entirely triumphant. It is hard for me to feel triumphant when I have bad hair. And while I did pack my toiletries kit in an easy-to-find place in the car, I neglected to include crucial hair styling products and, therefore, conducted the majority of my drive with limp hair.

On the other hand, it was perfect driving weather and there was an uncanny correlation between the things playing on my stereo and the moments during which they played. Here Comes the Sun was accompanied by a sudden and surprising break up of the overcast sky just as I was going over a big bridge. The water changed from grey to blue with diamond sparkles. I will confess that in that moment, a warm sense of faith and hope and accomplishment suffused my being. It did not possess the formal trappings of triumph; it was more satisfying than triumph, which has always struck me as a bit cold. Similarly, I listened to a talk about honoring memories and the various ways we might do that. It is destined to be part of my repeat listening roster for the time being, and I suspect I will have some thoughts to share about it before too long.

It is fair to say that I am still in the process of arriving here. I have that floaty surreal sleepy feeling that is a hallmark of being uprooted. Fortunately, I have been through enough change in my life that I recognize it for what it is and can just flow with it. Grace seems to be on a parallel path and is making prodigious use of her napping skills. We are both finding our feet.

Thanks for the love and good wishes!

~M

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