Every other Saturday, I attempt to allot my best friend with some quality alone time. Being a single parent working her way through nursing school is a commendable struggle.  Ten hours a month may not be much time to unwind and relax, but I feel that she deserves the chance to slow down for at least a moment or so. I pick up her two daughters, an 11 year old and a four year old, and find something fun for us to do together for that afternoon. They call me “aunt bean”. Today’s weather was actually nice enough for us to do something outside for a change. We decided to go to the park and roller blade. I had to hold the four year old’s hand the whole time for she has yet to master her balance while rolling on wheels. This afternoon was the first time in a very long time that I’ve sincerely laughed so much, that tears began to emerge. I’ve gotten so caught up in my problems and busy schedule, it was so refreshing to remember what it’s like to enjoy the little things that life can give you. The eleven year old wanted to skate over to the skate park and watch the older boys do the ramps and rails. She asked if I was able to do any of the tricks. I immediately thought of you. I told her no, but that I knew someone who did. I wondered if you would someday teach your nephew to blade. Thinking about it simply added to my developing good mood. All in all, today’s events really brightened my spirits.

"Seek the wisdom of the ages, but look at the world through the eyes of a child."
--Ron Wild

"Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven." --Henry Ward Beecher

No pretty words today. The theraputic poet I send forth as my ghost writer of denial must have caught a 24 hour bug.

It's days like this that I wish you and I could exchange friendly chatter. You've gone through rough times and seemed to make it through happily. Though we're sitting in different chairs of life, knowing that you're happy allows some hope into my thoughts. I can get through this. I will get through this and come out the otherside a better person than I've ever been.


"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." --Anais Nin

The early Puritans enforced the practice of “bundling.” If a man and women yet to be married found it necessary to share a bed, a wooden bundling board would be placed between them as they slept in order to dissipate any temptation from overpowering their willful desires. It seems as though our bundling board has been whittled from the bark of circumstance and chronology.   

If you be the omnipresent sea my vessel glides upon, the beautiful sorrow entombed within his strings become the wind inspiring my journey forth.


     "Music is love in search of a word."--Sidonie Gabrielle
 

Upon learning that Adam Trask had yet to name his twins, Samuel Hamilton decided to pay him a visit. Samuel made a statement that struck me, “He might be pleasuring himself with sadness.”

How is it feasible to ascertain delight while enduring a spell of woe? To those who have never experienced such a sensation, a pleasurable sadness may appear an oxymoron. Sensible logic will dispute that happiness manifests only from purging the source of engulfing misery along with every allied remnant its warfare has embedded into your veins.

The void of Doo pulsates a vindictive course through my veins, a constant current ever swarming. Bitter swells engorge upon collision. Fingertips twinge longing to be entwined. The rush encompasses my suffering lips recollecting ravished warmth. The commander overseeing this unwavering rivulet takes shelter in my heart. Eternally he ensures the flow. Offertory transfusions have promised a remedy. Be it not a phobia of steel piercing flesh, which repels such propositions. The life sustaining flow without an umbra of Doo, my commander would simply reject it. Grievous lamenting is born due to the circulation. Yet, I never feel more alive.

In such sadness, I discover pleasure. To eliminate my anguish would facilitate the removal of your memory. I’m indebted to the heartache, for it keeps you with me. 

“Don’t think it will ever die. Don’t expect it. I tell you it won’t ever die until you do.”--East of Eden