It’s About Time…

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There are a lot of changes… losses of sorts… I should feel empty… but instead… I feel freedom… like it all fluttered out to make space for something else… or maybe not… maybe there is nothing else for me…

But… I don’t really believe that… there’s always something else… it might not be what I think I want it to be… but there is always something else…

That’s a nice thought…

There’s always something else… always something more… always something fresh… always a place to land when I fall… there is always something else…

Not sure how this writing will go… not sure where I want it to go…

Writing opens my heart and fills me with possibilities… possibilities that are sometimes painful… sometimes scary… sometimes it’s easier to stay closed…

At least… it was… but like that bud… sooner or later… being closed hurts too much and you have to open… flower… all over again… even though you know the blossom will eventually wilt… and fall away… it has to be done…

I’m 62 years old… don’t I think it’s time?

It’s time… isn’t it?

It is…

So… I will write… and on the days that it pleases me… I will share my words with the world… and on the days that it doesn’t… I will ponder them and squander them until another day…

Bertha flutters by… it’s about time… she whisper shouts as she goes…

 

Blue Eyes…

I’m sad…

Bertha…assures me…I need to feel the sadness…then I can let it go…

Easy for her to say…

But…I don’t want to…I don’t want to be sad…I want to be happy…I want to laugh…I want to crack jokes…I don’t want to say goodbye to the people that I love…I don’t want today to be the last day that I work fulltime in my school…I don’t want to be shared with another school…I don’t want my friends to transfer…

I want things to be the way there are…imperfect as that may be…it’s what I know…it’s what I want…

I don’t want to be facing…funerals…for two dear friends…I want them…to be alive and well…

Is that too much to ask…

And…now…as I type…Frank Sinatra…is suddenly singing…I Did It My Way…on the radio…how could that be…Bertha…must have hijacked the station…

Okay…Bertha…I feel the sadness…I just don’t quite know what to do with it…

Oh…I know…the way out of sadness for me…it’s a maze I’ve maneuvered before…acknowledgement…anger…acceptance…appreciation…

But…it feels like…I’ve been…blindfolded…spun around…and told to…pin the tail on the donkey…I don’t have my bearings…

Then…the tears come…leading the way…

Jane

PS…I knew putting on makeup this morning…was…a…waste of time…