Life is Your Story

 I am walking along a path somewhere in the wilderness. I’m alone at first but then I feel someone’s presence, someone who vanished from my life. I think about all the people I have met and loved, yet there was nothing as intense, as omni-powerful as the connection of which I speak. Sometimes I wonder if some people are meant to only visit us once in our lives, because what they hold in their hands, their offering, is so sacred, so special that the moments of time, find it unbearable to hold onto them – to grasp them in their wholeness. So, I am on this walk and I have that feeling in my gut and I come around a bend and there he is, that person who vanished from this earth we walk upon and for whom I have waited to pass to the other side, so he can visit me in my dreams. But this is not a dream. This is not a hologram. This is not an illusion. This is him. This is what I have been waiting for, hoping for because I really never got to say a proper goodbye. I wasn’t there to kiss his...

What I would give for one more moment... In the car with my parents and brothers listening to Genesis, Styx, Fleetwood Mac on a family vacation. My  father  at the wheel young and healthy, telling us jokes and my mother at ease by his side loving life, loving us and forever  moving  forward with her hand closed around mine. Friday night dinner with my grandparents, at the table looking around at all of our faces and listening to our stories, laughing, smiling  already  having learned  the  art of treasuring every moment as if it is your last.  The first time I fell in love without questioning that love, without feeling like I was falling but like I was floating, rising above everything to a place of wonderment and acceptance; a place that felt like no other.                       In the country walking, running with all of the dogs that have enriched my life, and shown m...