Flowers on Sunday Thank You

Well, I am just especially thankful for every listening ear that has even tried to understand.  I didn’t realize until lately how much I wasn’t telling – because I didn’t know myself how much I had turned away from the life inside.  And I don’t try to tell everyone.  And I have told a few people and it wasn’t for them – and really, that’s fine.  I’ve been in those shoes, too.

My heart still feels broken, and I think it will have to mend into a different shape – a shape it didn’t have before I tumbled into love and kept falling.  That sadness is so deep, and very, very old.  Much older than me.  Older even than Marv and Barbara.  I doubt I will ever know where it started.

And yet, how can I even say how fortunate I feel?  To know that beyond this loneliness, a web of loving voices – connected and strong – knows the way I am, already.  To have the winter light, and roses to give it form and purpose.  To search for a way the unknown heart can begin her life anew.

 

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