The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.
It’s been quite a year. It’s only April. My furbabies are curled up on either side of me as I sip my coffee and write these words.
It’s been quite a week. I am ready for a new one. Blame it on the planets or the ocean waves or the storm that just blew through.
My daughter lives in Costa Rica. The adventure she is living is enough to write a book all on its own. She keeps this mama on her toes-She went to Panama by herself for the first time. Nothing stops this girl
I spent the entire week hunkered in from the storms brewing outside. Just like the days gone past living in the mountains of California. Sometimes even going days without electricity.
At times like these, the best place to play, is in the attic, pulling out relics from the boxes of memories that are stored there. Good memories. The best memories. Since I also have a penchant for good wine, this was the perfect opportunity.
Sometimes people show up in our lives to show us how strong our boundaries are. Mine were not set in place like they should be, and the Universe was screaming at me, telling me.
You give someone an inch, they take a mile.
The storms outside were whipping and hollering…calling out to me….begging me to get caught up in the eye of the hurricane.
No. I am safe in the attic, with my memories. They fill my mind, my heart, my soul of the promises of the sun and warmth that comes when the storm finally passes.
I could faintly hear the scratching of the fingers of treacherous winds that were retching and seething outside my door. But, my door was securely locked and bolted from such storms that cross this path.
The hours became days, the days became a week. Finally, it gave way.
I survived the storm with the comfort of my fondest memories wrapping their arms around me like my favorite blanket. The clouds have cleared. The sun is shining.
For today anyway…
Until the storm shows itself once again.
With Hugs and Hope