The Virgin River, Zion National Park at the entrance to the “Narrows” after the 100-year flood, rock cairns everywhere. Further evidence of the solely human need to stack things on top of other things. 😉
No matter how long or cold the winter, Spring will always come.
It’s been a while since I posted anything inspirational. So here is my spoonie inspiration for the day. There are days when it seems like winter will never end, there are days when it seems like a disease will never get better. On those days, I try to remember Lilacs. Yes, lilacs, the flowering shrub. I love lilacs, I love their scent, I love their color, the profusion of tiny blossoms. Mostly though, I love lilacs because they are, to me, the heralds of spring. I watch them from the first tiny buds, giddy with anticipation of the beauty that will follow. When disease rears it’s ugly head, I think about the lilacs, and am reminded that, like winter this too will pass and spring will come again. ~Peace ~jpp
A warm breeze washes over me. Taking with it all my worries. I look down at my hands weathered with age and sun. Gnarled joints like an old tree, still telling stories. A tear slips down my cheek. A tear of joy. They do not hurt. My fingers, for the first time in many years, do not hurt. Chronic pain is one of the many prices we pay for the wisdom and serenity that comes with age. It comes on so gradually and it remains with you day in and day out. You ignore it, you become accustomed to it. After this many years, you don’t really even feel it any more. Until, quite suddenly, you realize that it’s gone. Not many know the joy of the simple absence of pain. Not mere relief from it, but the total absence of it. A few days, even just a few moments, of this euphoric feeling of “not hurt” is cause for serious celebration. I smile, big and wide until my cheeks ache from the effort. Then I bend to pick up a tiny shell and continue my walk.
My response to the weekly picture challenge Unlikely
Unlikely ~ unusual or rare.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.” Soulful brown eyes gaze into mine with earnest concern.
“I know honey, but hearts heal in time. Opportunities come and go quickly.”
“Well, as long as you know it’s highly unlikely that this will work, not at your age, Mom.”
I do my best to hide the smile twitching at my lips. My grown son is giving me advice on love. He is an adult, but still too young to know just how rare this is. To find that one person that makes your heart sing, “oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Many years later, hiking a desert trail, I see the cacti covered in snow and I remember how unlikely it is to find true love so late in life. I look over at my husband and I give silent thanks that out of 7 billion people, we somehow found each other. The meeting of minds, and hearts, and souls. Unlikely, but oh so very precious.