It has been a long winter.
Not because of the snow and the cold, but because from mid-November through mid-February we walked with my Dad through the final days of his life. I am only now beginning to find my way back to what feels like a more normal rhythm of life. And, with that the energy and the desire and the ability to write again. For the last four months words eluded me. I could only live, and not put words around, what was happening. Even now, a month after my Dad’s death, the experience is beyond what I can fully know or name. For now, I am content to just let it be.
And, so today I am learning to write again.
Forcing myself to sit.
And, to think.
And, to look both inward and outward.
Doing my best to understand and to make sense of the life around me and before me.