When the Carousel

There have been moments of exquisite joy in my life; too many and too personal to share with another.

And there have been other moments of utter and total grief so. overwhelming that I felt I could never emerge from their tentacles.

Today I live on the nebulous border of what is to come and what I have left behind.

My steps are growing slower, and yet my thoughts race endlessly.

I find the on screen intrigue of “The Offer” stimulating and enjoyable.

I scoff at a suggestion I watch The Hallmark Channel.

And I have temporarily abandoned James Galway for the love songs of Sam Cooke, and the nostalgia the talented vocalist resurrects.

Although I cringe at the endless political accusations and denials, I am in awe of Maureen Dowd’s exquisite choice of words each Sunday.

While she and I view the world from opposite sides of the political fence, I am constantly thrilled with Ms. Dowd’s amazing gift of language.

And yes, I now find that I tend to look back more and more to the yesterdays.

To my amazement with a new clarity of view, I find a comfort in understanding past events, misunderstandings, and am able to retrieve broken pieces of my heart.

All are now wrapped in the thin film of understanding and forgiveness.

I offer a prayer that in time to come those remaining on the opposite side of a road we once shared will someday share a similar viewpoint

Yet, with all the comforting joys of yesterday’s miracles and blessings comes the temptation to fear the tomorrow’s if they are to come.

I try to withstand that unexpected challenge.

I remember countless unanticipated events in youth that developed into a life filled with more miracles than even my vivid imagination could conjure.

Still when the night is dark, and the music of life subdued, fragile wisps of fear knock on my heart seeking entry.

I am now the eldest of a once robust clan, and a devoted family. We are divided by miles and yes, more than that.

The division was unexpected and still an unforseen revelation.

Initially, I believed I would not survive, but God allowed me His strength to deny that temptation.

He also taught me, as so often He did during the more joyous, but also stressful years, I can and must continue to follow His path.

It is leading now into an unknown territory where I see more shadows than sunlight.

I listen for the laughter, but fear I sense only tears.

Yet I know this is the path assigned to me, and I must complete the assigned journey.

And I remember I have never walked alone not even now as my bones grow old.