What the hell is going on? Now Notre Dame in Paris is burning, giving me goosebumps, and not the good kind, the scary, unnerving kind. On top of our horrible political climate.
Going to lunch with Kathy this morning, for her birthday. Looking forward to our time together. Going to Della Fattoria, maybe take her over to Pet Pals Thrift Store for some bargain hunting. The hunt is what’s fun.
There’s a 50% chance of rain, must remember umbrella–this time of year, abrupt season changes, flowers abound. The apple tree looks like a lace umbrella, so full of white-pink blooms, Hope the rain does not interfere with the bee pollen exchange.
Tomorrow, Kiva arrives at Snoopy Airport. She hasn’t been here in over a year–two Christmases ago. Trying to explain to Bob the only part I hate about her visit, or Aaron’s, is that there is always the leaving part. When she left for college, a wound appeared in my flesh, it seemed. Then over time it healed and a callous appeared to protect it, but each visit re-opens the wound. Need to explicate this better–the sadness of a child’s departure from me, the mom, creates series of wounds, from the departure, a tear to the flesh, so it is felt.
You want them to grow and flourish, and flourish, and yet the separation is felt as a body tear–not unlike the separation at their birth, which happens for mothers the moment babies are born. How we all deal with this is a topic for me to further explore. Note to self.
Last night at one AM before falling asleep, as I reached up to put out the light, a weird thought occurred to me: Thomas Alva Edison, fellow New Jersey-an, did you really do us any favors by discovering the electric light built? Did you.