What a week! So many icons of my youth dropping in a week makes me a bit introspective. It all fits into that death and dying thing that seems to be creeping up everytime I begin to forget about it.
Life is but a whisper, and everyone thinks it's just a big long winded story. Not always, my friend. Sometimes its like a sneeze. Sometimes it's like a quick leap over a crack in the sidewalk. Sometimes it's like a raging river and sometimes it's like a muffled scream.
So again, to my point of a few posts ago. Embrace every day. No, embrace every minute of every day. See joy and beauty in the small things.
I saw a college girl walking toward her dorm tonight. Flip flops, hippie purse, skirt and bandana. It occurred to me how simplistic and happy those days were for me. Not the skirt/purse part, but the college student part. I was (am) idealistic, convinced that I was never going to buy into the system of a house in the burbs and 2 cars. Alas, "sigh"...
My point however is that I can still feel how that felt. It seems like last week. While I don't wish it back, I do realize how quickly time passes. Farrah was 62! That's 15 years away for me? And she took good care of herself. I can SEE 62, and I don't know that I want to get there as quick as I'm heading. If you can think of a way to give me the illusion that it's taking longer to get there, let me know. Because I don't want to be blogging this same thing at 62 about becoming 77. I want to be talking about how 62 feels like 47.
Went shopping for a new Van today. A super-nice man named Chris helped us. It turns out that by saying we didn't like the white van, another man named Chris said he'd get us a different color for roughly the same price within a week. Sweet. The bad economy makes car shopping a bit less of an ordeal.
I cannot believe how much I miss Sarah's presence. 5 years and I won't have the chance to get her back for good like I do tomorrow. (She's at Camp Invasion for church.) I miss her wit, her beautiful smile and her kisses goodnight. She's a good kid who will hopefully come out of the teen years as "a good kid", or adult, as it were.
Well, it's like 85 degrees in this room and the ceiling is practically bleeding moisture, so I'm going to cut this blog short.