pleasure and pain

So John and I had this absolutely crazy and lovely anniversary celebration. When we touched back to civilization this morning (meaning, when we were back into a wireless zone), I checked my email and discovered that my former editor at Irreantum died last night. This after a semi-truck spun out of control and smashed into her car a few days ago. Her teenaged daughter, perhaps paralyzed from the accident, is still in ICU. Whoa, tough news.

Then, just after I returned home and gave my kiddoes huge squeezes and gave a prayer of thanks for their safety, I checked my email again and had a note from my friend Linda. Her doctors have given her 2 months left to live--liver failure seems imminent and she has gone off chemo so she can enjoy her last few weeks with her family.

Last night John and I spent some time in a wild "secret garden" in the moonlight. It was scary and serene. When the paths were uneven or I was timid, John's strong, warm arm was there to guide me. I suspect that I need to head to my own "secret garden" now. My plants are surely thirsty from my two days away, and I am feeling off-center, ungrounded. In need of a shoulder to lean on. In need of the deep peace of my garden place.

And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
~Kahlil Gibran