Turning Point

I am behind on nearly everything, including my reading here... I must feel confoundedly stunted by my own bummed-out-edness. That includes the way I feel when looking at my own blog! It doesn't matter that I swing wildly between laughing freely and all it's opposite alternatives.

Though I've been in the midst of my own personal grief, here we all are this week struck by the loss of so many: Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays, and most of all Michael Jackson. While I do believe that the world has changed this week, that these losses speak to us all, that reflection is certainly in order, I am also left feeling something else. It's hard to pinpoint, but I know that life is here for us all, here for as long as we are able to embrace it. I feel a little levity is in order. I know I need it. I'm not sure how much should be prescribed to offset the heft of my heaviness. Fizzy Lifting Drinks would not be turned down. I'll sanitize the ceiling. I'm good at that. ;) Hey, gotta love that stainless steel!

Announcing the return of

TWILIGHT TUESDAYS

Be well, all.

Love. Peace. Life.

xo

Stop the world, please...? And rewind?

The public house (Pub) operated since 1927 in Ireland by my father's cousin's family, seems to be gone. I can find no trace of the family I lost touch with... I sent email, but it came back returned. As of 1 year ago, the darts match results were still being posted there according to the newspaper... They are still listed in an online tourism guide, but that was last copyrighted in 2003! How can I have let so much time slip by without contacting them? I am just one of many American cousins who have likely visited them over the years with my now ailing Father and otherwise... But they are rare and special to me. So kind and warm and generous... I thought there would be time, that they would remain, be there...

The "Land Owner's House" where we stayed is no longer operating either-- has become a private residence...

I am so completely crushed, flattened, bereft...

Never a more magical time to me than that trip, and nothing so miraculous than the time spent there, on the seaside, stepping briefly, welcomed, into the life of that family, that town...

I am so ashamed of all the times I planned to write, to send a tin of Christmas treats, to return, to visit... and did not.

Too many things to grieve right now, things lost, and things soon to be lost...

How can one heart be so full and yet so empty, sinking and yet floating... soaring above the things I grasp for, to say goodbye, and yet pull them back to me once more.