Grandpa Chuck

I'm sad to say I'm on my way Won't be back for many a day My heart is down, my head is turning around I had to leave a little girl in Kingston town

-- Harry Belafonte

My grandpa loved Harry Belafonte, and his wife, and his kids, and his grand-kids, and his country.

And I loved him very much.
I'll miss him, but I'll see him again.

End of a Spark

Sometimes you still think about something that once made you smile, or made you laugh, or gave you butterflies - right? And it's over, and it's done, but you still get that warm sensation as before, just with an added under-tone of nostalgia. You think about the memory / then the feeling from the memory / then you sort of feel the feeling.


It's not the same as dwelling on the past. It's just remembering. And just remembering is okay.

The last few months have taught me something about remembering, though. Those things that we pluck from our jumbled mind-jars of memorandum, to brighten our less-than-alright days, only do any brightening if the thing in the remembering was real. I don't mean "real" as in "really happened". I mean "real" - as in lasting and lie-free.

Rememberings riddled with falseness and fable don't do me any good, anymore.

Cosmic Truth

'There will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there,

With grace in your {bones} and {one less storm to fare}.


It's okay to not be okay. I'm just going to sit here, perched on the idea that, eventually, everything will be okay. And it will, I think, eventually.