It is Monday, and perhaps what feels like the first "real" day of the New Year. One house still has Christmas lights sparkling across the way but other than that, the day is just beginning to form.
My father died 41 years ago today, in an accident. January 4th was a Saturday that year and he was out riding his motorcycle on a beautiful day. We lived in San Diego. I have always felt God reached down and plucked him up to heaven, just couldn't wait any longer to hold him closer to his chest, his heart. He was that kind of guy and has been greatly missed and yet, when my mother died almost five years ago now, I felt him complete.
Someone asked me recently how my father dying when I was 19 affected my life. I think the shock of it has taught me to value partings. I don't trust that I will necessarily see someone again. I am aware of transition.
Yesterday was glorious here. I was out in the yard fertilizing, weeding, and pruning, thinking of all those wrapped in cold and snow. I know that winter is still here and yesterday was a gift of spring, or perhaps a gift of a day to prepare for it, to say to all the plants, you've made it so far through the storms. We do have one tree that is looking sad and so I will have my tree friend out to look at it this week and see how long it has,but everyone else looks ready for a new year. I'm already noticing the change in light, a little more at each end.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
- Mark Twain