Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on shit.
I, of course, am not ready. Nor is it time.
Everyone is starting to think about fall already, but I am still working on my tan and basking in the warmth of the sun.
The calendar isn't ready either. We have most of August left.
We are not ready to make the shift into fall.
I, of course, am not ready. Nor should it be time.
Today, you did your senior pictures.
You will have you last first day of school...you were always my first lasts.
You are filling out your applications and you wrote your essay.
You are ready.
The time is coming when I will no longer see you every single day of your life.
The shift is coming.
The one thing I have noticed most is that time does keep marching on and it forces us to shift with it. Even if we are not ready.
I believe that the hardest part of grief is watching the world march on and your loved one not holding your hand through it so you refust to shift.
This summer has been whimsical, fun loving, hard at time, full of joy and laughter, with a solid mix of anxiety and hormonal shifts.
Ready or not, time marches right on.
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