The time has flown again, what started as a blog of thankfulness and enough has somehow changed to gardening, and now to thankfulness and recovery. So goes life, changing from each day to the next.
This past June, after a long battle, the father of my sons died from cancer. The words look so stark, so blank, not hinting at the fullness or the life encapsulated in those words. It was a time rife with sentiments spoken, forgiveness, and regret. Regret for what was being lost, forgiveness for that which was not spoken (transgressions, the road not taken). Love is such a hard thing. On the surface it seems simple: to love someone, simply care for them. Ah, but everyone has a different definition of love. For some, it involves gifts; for others, freedom.
My boys are slogging along, through the minefield of holidays and firsts without their father. I am slogging along, through the minefield of being, quite literally,a single parent. And so it goes.
