New Years is special for me- it is my Mother’s time, spiritually (And how often are you going to hear me use that word in public?) A time for rebirth.
That’s exactly what last night was.
I terrorized a lovely stranger, watching her shake and stammer and ask the dark for her Daddy. Delightful.Even more so to tell her that her Daddy was not here, it was just us. That there was no safety net, and no place to go but down.
I was among my closest pack and some friends, and spent the heart of my evening leaving scarred bootprints in a mind that wanted them, needed them. It’s been years since I felt this whole, this alive. I forgot all about my health, my leg, my limitations. They were gone, and I was doing what I was made to do. I was content, sunning myself like a great black snake digesting it’s prey on a hot rock. Quiet. Content. At peace.
Again. At last.
Coming home I found a note from someone who still, after time and distance and a lot of pain, holds me in the regard I hold most priceless, and who I will always miss, every day.
"What rough Beast, his hour rolled ’round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem, waiting to be born?"
Happy New Year.