Tuesday, June 17, 2008

While Ye May

It's raining.
It's 5:30, the sky is dark, the trees are blowing, it's thundering, lightning, the candles are lit and I'm sitting by an open window sucking it all in. India's running outside so that she can see first hand how the dripping house looks to draw a picture of it.

My dad called yesterday. Said he wanted to know what my secret was - how I kept going forward, moving on, getting on, living. I wasn't sure if he didn't know how terrifying life sometimes feels to me, or if he just didn't want to know how terrifying it sometimes feels. I thought that the next time he and I have a good talk I'll have to let him in on the joke that sometimes it's all just a fucking mess. Sometimes it just is. That's all. And then sometimes, you've got those days with the thunder and lightening and the smell of rain and glowing candles and good God. Good God.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

you got that right. fucking mess. good God. every bit of it. seems like we honestly need the former - AT LEAST once real big - to understand the latter.

how's about posting the picture of the house india sophia draws? that'd be nice.

Mike S said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mike S said...

(The deletion was due to Old Indian with bad dexterity) Lucky for us that the Creator gave us such a short attention span and faulty memory that the good days always seem to outnumber the bad. She sure is smart!!