Today we walked half-way across the Golden Gate Bridge on a beautiful day. We went up to Hawk Hill. Grandchild found a stick and a hole. Add two rocks and a home for a bird in her nest appeared. Life works like that.
What was said to the rose that made it open was said to me here in my chest.
I haven’t stayed connected with my high school class but thanks to social media, I am now connected. This morning I learned that another from my class of 1967 has passed away. She had dementia the last few years. I try to align the information with the exuberant cheerleader I remember. She’s not the only one I know my age who has gotten dementia and passed away.
It’s an odd entry into this new day where gratitude is the only song I need. I hear the garbage trucks as my garbage sorted into three cans, trash, recycling and compost, is carted away.
Trust that bonds are never broken, simply carried away – like the moon pulling the tides.