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.