The night was crisp and cool, I was driving with the top down on my convertible, and I made a wish on a shooting star. The star appeared out of nowhere, bright and fleeting, visible to me for maybe five seconds. That was two weeks ago. Or was it three?
I felt silly then, I knew my wish wouldn’t come true. All the wishes in the world couldn’t change what was already happening. Of course, my wish didn’t come true, and I realize now that it wasn’t a shooting star, it was a falling star. The word makes a difference, at least in my brain.
It was a pretty thing to see, anyway, in the darkened night sky. Something I’ll remember. Something out of the ordinary.
I watched the sunset tonight while swimming laps in our community pool. I swam and swam and swam and swam and swam, and then swam some more, until I couldn’t swim no more, because I had to get out and pee. I swam hard, it feels so damn good to be able to use every muscle in my body again. I want to feel every muscle in my body again.
I think I’ll get that wish tomorrow.
Thing was, I was trying to outswim my mind, or swim it to the point of exhaustion, anyway. That didn’t work so well. The mind is always going to be faster, more fleeting and agile, than the body.
Grief is a strange thing. Weeping is something I find myself doing without any conscious thought, suddenly, I’m just there crying and I’d like to stop, but there doesn’t seem to be an off switch I can find. It just eventually tapers off, until the next session. I guess it’s just best to let it be?
On Easter, the day our Lord rose again so many years ago, we buried Miracle. Do the innocent go to Heaven? I’d like to think so. I’d like to believe that Miracle is in Heaven, holding my dad’s hand with her left hand, and our Heavenly Father’s hand with her right.
Now that would be something out of the ordinary.