holding on.

i said i was back, right? i know, i'm sorry...i lied.
but life has been...well, life lately and things have gotten away from me a bit...especially amidst all the traveling, which won't die down until mid-july. hang with me until then? thanks.

i stumbled across a little something i wrote about perspective back in march. there's nothing like a recent cancer diagnosis for a dear friend's family member to bring you face-to-face with perspective. more like smack you square in the eyes. this past week was a doozy, for a few reasons, but these thoughts bring me a little clarity, perspective, and calm...even several months later. life works like that, doesn't it?

this past week i didn't hear from andy for days 

and suddenly everything shifted.

perspective amidst all the "stress" and "busy-ness" 

quickly came back into focus.

and then japan.

lives & houses & ships 

bobbing against the massive forces

beyond anyone's control.

lives gone...just like that...

reminding us that our stint here on earth

is ever so precarious.

and then, finally, andy's email this morning.

1 soldier killed, 4 wounded.

his buddy lost a leg.

the same buddy who was roommates with kyle,

a friend and comrade they lost last summer.

massive forces beyond our control.

lives gone, limbs gone.

loved ones thousands of miles away.

for what?

...for these massive global forces beyond our control.

i went on a walk today and saw an older man

who looked like my grandpa.

i shed some tears and was struck again

by the pain of realizing that loved ones are 

no longer with us.

their time here is done.

where have they gone?

out the window of the coffee shop this morning,

a man was guiding two little ones to the car.

the little boy grabbed hold of the front pocket of dad's jeans,

the little girl had nothing left to hold on to but the back pocket.

and they crossed the street like that...clutching onto one another.

front pocket, back pocket.

it warmed my heart...

and reminded me that that's all there is:

holding on to those around us.

all i want is for my soldier to come home safely,

and to build a nest of love,

hopefully inhabited by little ones someday.

...little ones who will grow to big ones.

and all i can hope is that they too 

will shed tears when we're gone

and know that their parents loved them fiercely

and tried their damndest to 

live this life well every day.