Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Call
I'm a poor author/blogger. I should write and post more, but the ideas swirling in my head rarely take time to stop long enough for me to write them down. I stay busy to avoid the unavoidable certainty of dwelling on past pain. When I do stop, I focus on what is serious rather than what is popular and funny. I question the readability and draw of the words I craft on paper or screen. My desire is that more people would be of my opinion, even when I hesitantly wait and hold back my ideas and thoughts. I an egotist, afraid of being alone in my narcissism, arrested by the threat of isolation, but still I hold and pause avoiding the eyes and attention of the audience.
I'm critical of others for doing what I am not, nay, I stand in the seat of judgement, secretly admiring the confidence of the individual to take a stand while quietly judging their message. Can anyone be right? Even as much as I'd like to believe I'm unaffected by the bias that so permeates the thoughts of those that surround me, I can not avoid the unquestionable truth - that I do not know, what I do not know. This, in and of itself, creates a dark cloud of confusion, impenetrable by thought and reason, preventing me or anyone from being truly right. The words of the holy scripture ring in my ears like a clanging cymbal: "now we see through a glass darkly."
And yet the response back, also from His Word, "how long halt ye between two opinions?" How does anyone fully rest upon an answer to any of life's most difficult questions? Is the message to the Laodiceans where my fate will rest also? - "So then because thou are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth" Revelation 3:16. Does my inability to rest upon a true answer, just as this unevenly yoked country yaws and pitches between Republican and Democrat, indict me? Is it possible that there is another answer? Like the father who's son was possessed with a dumb spirit responded when challenged by Jesus, "I believe; help thou mine unbelief", can I too respond? When it comes to matters of politics and faith, can I stand from the seat of apathy, uncertainty, and fear to strongly, confidently declare: "THIS IS THE TRUTH..."? No matter of the cost - of reputation, finance, friends, or family - will I stand?
I believe I can; but Lord help to my unbelief.
This is my, and this country's only indictment, that we sit idly by allowing others to control the outcome of our lives. We are sheep to the slater, and we must overcome selfishness, fear, and apathy if we are to avoid the dire consequences of our inaction. This is a call to arms! Prepare for the coming of the Lord, and you will be ready when he arrives at your doorstep, or when you arrive at His.
PMC
I'm critical of others for doing what I am not, nay, I stand in the seat of judgement, secretly admiring the confidence of the individual to take a stand while quietly judging their message. Can anyone be right? Even as much as I'd like to believe I'm unaffected by the bias that so permeates the thoughts of those that surround me, I can not avoid the unquestionable truth - that I do not know, what I do not know. This, in and of itself, creates a dark cloud of confusion, impenetrable by thought and reason, preventing me or anyone from being truly right. The words of the holy scripture ring in my ears like a clanging cymbal: "now we see through a glass darkly."
And yet the response back, also from His Word, "how long halt ye between two opinions?" How does anyone fully rest upon an answer to any of life's most difficult questions? Is the message to the Laodiceans where my fate will rest also? - "So then because thou are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth" Revelation 3:16. Does my inability to rest upon a true answer, just as this unevenly yoked country yaws and pitches between Republican and Democrat, indict me? Is it possible that there is another answer? Like the father who's son was possessed with a dumb spirit responded when challenged by Jesus, "I believe; help thou mine unbelief", can I too respond? When it comes to matters of politics and faith, can I stand from the seat of apathy, uncertainty, and fear to strongly, confidently declare: "THIS IS THE TRUTH..."? No matter of the cost - of reputation, finance, friends, or family - will I stand?
I believe I can; but Lord help to my unbelief.
This is my, and this country's only indictment, that we sit idly by allowing others to control the outcome of our lives. We are sheep to the slater, and we must overcome selfishness, fear, and apathy if we are to avoid the dire consequences of our inaction. This is a call to arms! Prepare for the coming of the Lord, and you will be ready when he arrives at your doorstep, or when you arrive at His.
PMC
Monday, December 07, 2009
Rock Bottom
He dines upon the bile of fun,
and begs salvation from his nearest son.
The slow death envelopes his only soul,
and threatens to take all control.
Desperate attempts to gain his freedom,
he calls for his family to need him.
The cold empty prick of the needle stops,
the chaos and pain of the world it unlocks.
The fire of the vile drink,
the family which will sever the link.
The key to his life's lamp, dim,
is the rest he must find in Him.
PMC
and begs salvation from his nearest son.
The slow death envelopes his only soul,
and threatens to take all control.
Desperate attempts to gain his freedom,
he calls for his family to need him.
The cold empty prick of the needle stops,
the chaos and pain of the world it unlocks.
The fire of the vile drink,
the family which will sever the link.
The key to his life's lamp, dim,
is the rest he must find in Him.
PMC
What Would You Have Me Write
What would you have me write today?
And what, if anything, would you like it to say?
Would it be of love, sorrow, anger or war?
Would it even satisfy your hunger for more?
Will dark accounts of my angry past,
gratify your longing for my mind, last?
Or will you desire to hear my prose even more,
after your immersion into their meaning’s lore?
I write of love’s pain, and of sorrow’s joy,
you play with my mind as if they were a toy.
NO! I’ll write of the journey’s end,
when all relationships must begin to mend.
PMC
And what, if anything, would you like it to say?
Would it be of love, sorrow, anger or war?
Would it even satisfy your hunger for more?
Will dark accounts of my angry past,
gratify your longing for my mind, last?
Or will you desire to hear my prose even more,
after your immersion into their meaning’s lore?
I write of love’s pain, and of sorrow’s joy,
you play with my mind as if they were a toy.
NO! I’ll write of the journey’s end,
when all relationships must begin to mend.
PMC
Friday, December 04, 2009
I Wanted to Write You a Letter
I wanted to write you a letter, but I forget the day I tried to do it.
I wanted to tell you all the things you have missed, but I'm afraid you may have already knew it.
Of the birth of my boys, the daughter who's finally on her way!
Of the wife who's heart is full of joy for a moment, and sorrow the rest of the day.
Of all the little successes at work and at school.
And of course the family's battle with the flu.
Of busy nights going to school, or church or taking Jon to boy scouts.
Of dirty diapers, kids throwing up, and teething bouts.
I wanted to tell you all the things you have missed, but I'm afraid you may have already knew it.
Of the birth of my boys, the daughter who's finally on her way!
Of the wife who's heart is full of joy for a moment, and sorrow the rest of the day.
Of all the little successes at work and at school.
And of course the family's battle with the flu.
Of busy nights going to school, or church or taking Jon to boy scouts.
Of dirty diapers, kids throwing up, and teething bouts.
I wanted to write you a letter to tell you who He is, and how he's made life better.
I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't finish the letter.
Of the times I was in trouble, yet He's given me so many chances.
Of the beauty He has substituted for all the ashes.
Of the shoulder's He's given to me, to cry,
And the strength enough to say so many good-byes.
Of the joy I find when I think of you,
Of the sorrow, for which, I want to say adieu
I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't finish the letter.
Of the times I was in trouble, yet He's given me so many chances.
Of the beauty He has substituted for all the ashes.
Of the shoulder's He's given to me, to cry,
And the strength enough to say so many good-byes.
Of the joy I find when I think of you,
Of the sorrow, for which, I want to say adieu
I wanted to write you a letter, and share with you what is above.
I wanted to tell you this,with all my love.
Of the peace I come to know,
Of the brothers for whom I owe.
Of the love we experience, and the boys we raise,
And especially the joy they bring at holidays.
Of all the grief, and pain I've felt since you left, sadly
Of the Lily given to me, while I was in my valley.
I wanted to tell you this,with all my love.
Of the peace I come to know,
Of the brothers for whom I owe.
Of the love we experience, and the boys we raise,
And especially the joy they bring at holidays.
Of all the grief, and pain I've felt since you left, sadly
Of the Lily given to me, while I was in my valley.
PMC
I Wanted to Write You a Letter
I wanted to write you a letter, but I forget the day I tried to do it.
I wanted to tell you all the things you have missed, but I'm afraid you may have already knew it.
Of the birth of my boys, the daughter who's finally on her way!
Of the wife who's heart is full of joy for a moment, and sorrow the rest of the day.
Of all the little successes at work and at school.
And of course the family's battle with flu.
Of busy nights going to school, or church or taking Jon to boy scouts.
Of dirty diapers, kids throwing up, and teething bouts.
I wanted to tell you all the things you have missed, but I'm afraid you may have already knew it.
Of the birth of my boys, the daughter who's finally on her way!
Of the wife who's heart is full of joy for a moment, and sorrow the rest of the day.
Of all the little successes at work and at school.
And of course the family's battle with flu.
Of busy nights going to school, or church or taking Jon to boy scouts.
Of dirty diapers, kids throwing up, and teething bouts.
I wanted to write you a letter to tell you who He is, and how he's made life better.
I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't finish the letter.
Of the times I was in trouble, yet He's given me so many chances.
Of the beauty He has substituted for all the ashes.
Of the shoulder's He's given to me, to cry,
And the strength enough to say so many good-byes.
Of the joy I find when I think of you,
Of the sorrow, for which, I want to say adieu
I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't finish the letter.
Of the times I was in trouble, yet He's given me so many chances.
Of the beauty He has substituted for all the ashes.
Of the shoulder's He's given to me, to cry,
And the strength enough to say so many good-byes.
Of the joy I find when I think of you,
Of the sorrow, for which, I want to say adieu
I wanted to write you a letter, and share with you what is above.
I wanted to tell you this,with all my love.
Of the peace I come to know,
Of the brothers for whom I owe.
Of the love we experience, and the boys we raise,
And especially the joy they bring at holidays.
Of all the grief, and pain I've felt since you left, sadly
Of the Lily given to me, while I was in my valley.
I wanted to tell you this,with all my love.
Of the peace I come to know,
Of the brothers for whom I owe.
Of the love we experience, and the boys we raise,
And especially the joy they bring at holidays.
Of all the grief, and pain I've felt since you left, sadly
Of the Lily given to me, while I was in my valley.
PMC
Monday, November 16, 2009
But I was Busy
I know you wanted me to call,
but I was so busy with me.
It wouldn't have taken much at all,
a birthday wish from me to thee.
How could I know you'd be gone so quick,
that I would not be able to say
(because now, myself, I kick)
a heartfelt I love you, and Happy Birthday.
-PMC
but I was so busy with me.
It wouldn't have taken much at all,
a birthday wish from me to thee.
How could I know you'd be gone so quick,
that I would not be able to say
(because now, myself, I kick)
a heartfelt I love you, and Happy Birthday.
-PMC
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Earmuff
Is he still bringing her up?
Isn't it time to let her go?
I can't stand the updates,
who cares about 7up?
Here's another one.
So dark and morbid,
When will he stop?
Talk about something fun.
Hasn't it been long enough?
Haven't the voices died down?
Can't stand reading these,
I need an earmuff.
Block.
- PMC
Isn't it time to let her go?
I can't stand the updates,
who cares about 7up?
Here's another one.
So dark and morbid,
When will he stop?
Talk about something fun.
Hasn't it been long enough?
Haven't the voices died down?
Can't stand reading these,
I need an earmuff.
Block.
- PMC
Body, Mind, & Will (Plot Analysis of "The Story of an Hour")
1 Human survival depends on an unbroken body, mind, and will. A broken body cannot continue to function very long after the breaking takes place. Although life may course, once the mind fractures, the quality of that existence diminishes to the point that is matters not if it continues. Finally, the human will is the helm of the soul, without the desire to continue, the soul become a wasteland of apathy. In “The Story of an Hour,” by Kate Chopin, the character Louise Mallard faces each part of her existence in her struggle to resolve life after believing her husband to be dead. Chopin uses the conflicts in Mallard’s hour alone to demonstrated how fragile the body, mind, and will are.
2 Chopin’s first conflict focuses on the fragility of the body, portrayed through the heart trouble Mrs. Louise Mallard, the main character, endures. During the narrative, Josephine, Mrs. Mallard’s sister, very carefully breaks the news of the premature death of Louise’s husband, for fear the report would be to overwhelming. While Louise mourns, Josephine compels her to come out of the bedroom so she does not make herself ill. The frailty of the main character’s heart becomes the antagonist of the struggle as she attempts to grasp a hold of her freedom. Immediately as the story-story begins the audience is informed, the heart of Mrs. Mallard is troubled. As the narrative concludes, the heart is the bringer of death. The exact time Mallard begins to experience heart trouble is never revealed. However, the inception of the conflict that ultimately results in death begins when Josephine communicates the calamity to her sister. The “veiled hints” and “broken sentences” are the beginning of Mallard’s demise. Complicating the struggle, is the brief elation the main character experiences when the idea of complete freedom envelopes her. As she loses herself to the dilution of freedom, Mallard begins to feel invulnerable to her illness. The idea of freely living for herself was the “elixir” of healing. Louise’s bold rebuke, “I am not making myself ill,” climaxes the conflict just as her fate is perched precariously on the edge of time. Fully disillusioned, the woman leaves the chamber of transfiguration, believing freedom has restored her health. In Mallard’s mind, the belief she was the “goddess of Victory.” The conflict’s end descends just as quickly as Mallard must have fallen from the stairs. Mr. Mallard is revealed alive, and the illusion of freedom quickly fades away taking with it the joy and power Louise had cultivated during her hour alone. The brute-force of fleeting freedom is enough to strip the last beat of the heart.
3 Chopin’s second conflict examines the brittleness of the mind. In the hour Louise Mallard spends locked in her room, she fearfully struggles within her mind with how to accept the death of Mr. Mallard, and the resulting life she will lead. Louise moves from great grief to elation (over her freedom), by allowing her mind to drift. The narrative reveals Mallard’s repression and resistance as the antagonist for which she, again the protagonist, struggles. The author personifies the antagonist by showing the reader how Mrs. Mallard first resists any intelligent thought, moves to physical resisting and fearing what was coming, to the final overtaking of Mallard’s mind with the idea of freedom. The struggle for Mallard’s mind begins shortly after she allows it to wonder outside the room into the open square outside the house. Almost as if attempting to dismiss the mind altogether, Mallard sits quietly staring into the blue sky. By allowing the “suspension of intelligent thought,” Louise opens her fragile mind to the “monstrous joy” of freedom. Initially resisting the notion - before even knowing what was being born in her mind- complicates the struggle. After moments of staring into the sky, the notion seems to being working its way into Mallard’s mind. Fearfully, and powerlessly, this protagonist is unable to maintain the fight. The conflict’s pinnacle summits when the fantasy of freedom and the prayer for an extended life overtake Louise’s mind. At the point in which Mallard allows herself to be possessed with the concept of freedom, she loses the battle. The only remaining event is the ultimate exorcism that awaits her.
4 Chopin’s third and final conflict is the battle of the will. Ultimately, Mallard’s mind and body are both in the state they are in due to the powerful will of society. Louise reveals the loathing she has for the belief that men and woman “have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow creature.” After her illumination, the will of those men and women emerges as Mallard’s final antagonist. Louise sees the enforcement of the will onto another as a crime, whether with kind or cruel intentions. She is relieved when the idea of complete freedom from another overtakes her. The author implies, throughout the story that Mallard struggles with accepting authority and submission, but never identifies the moment the struggle beings. The reader assumes Louise Mallard’s feelings have developed through the process of time, and marriage. The degree of contempt Mallard has for the “will of society” would indicate that, although she loved Mr. Mallard, she might have been a victim of oppression. Complicating the feelings toward the antagonist is the delusion of freedom, which Mallard has allowed to overtake her. The chants of freedom, allowing her “fancy” to have a “riot” continued to build the disillusion of a life without a willful force. The victory Louise believed to have obtained, distracted her from the reality that continued to be life. The climax of her struggle with the will of society comes when the “feverish triumph” forms in Mrs. Mallard’s eyes. Once the illusions have complete overtaken Mallard’s body, and mind, the victory she believes to have made over the societal will, is the final step into complete disillusionment. The peak has been reached and all that is left is the fall.
5 Life cannot continue in a person whose body, mind, and will are broken. Chopin shows us that Mrs. Mallard, full of the delusion of freedom from the bonds of marriage, cannot continue to exist in the reality she so vehemently resisted during her hour. As Louise descents the stairs, she fully allows the fantasy world to take her body, mind and will, leaving nothing when the site of Mr. Mallard materializes before her eyes. Lost to the fantasy world, but faced with reality, her will breaks, her mind fractured, and her body cannot continue, and death consumes her. Chopin’s narrative demonstrates to the reader the fragility of this triad in a powerful and provocative manner.
2 Chopin’s first conflict focuses on the fragility of the body, portrayed through the heart trouble Mrs. Louise Mallard, the main character, endures. During the narrative, Josephine, Mrs. Mallard’s sister, very carefully breaks the news of the premature death of Louise’s husband, for fear the report would be to overwhelming. While Louise mourns, Josephine compels her to come out of the bedroom so she does not make herself ill. The frailty of the main character’s heart becomes the antagonist of the struggle as she attempts to grasp a hold of her freedom. Immediately as the story-story begins the audience is informed, the heart of Mrs. Mallard is troubled. As the narrative concludes, the heart is the bringer of death. The exact time Mallard begins to experience heart trouble is never revealed. However, the inception of the conflict that ultimately results in death begins when Josephine communicates the calamity to her sister. The “veiled hints” and “broken sentences” are the beginning of Mallard’s demise. Complicating the struggle, is the brief elation the main character experiences when the idea of complete freedom envelopes her. As she loses herself to the dilution of freedom, Mallard begins to feel invulnerable to her illness. The idea of freely living for herself was the “elixir” of healing. Louise’s bold rebuke, “I am not making myself ill,” climaxes the conflict just as her fate is perched precariously on the edge of time. Fully disillusioned, the woman leaves the chamber of transfiguration, believing freedom has restored her health. In Mallard’s mind, the belief she was the “goddess of Victory.” The conflict’s end descends just as quickly as Mallard must have fallen from the stairs. Mr. Mallard is revealed alive, and the illusion of freedom quickly fades away taking with it the joy and power Louise had cultivated during her hour alone. The brute-force of fleeting freedom is enough to strip the last beat of the heart.
3 Chopin’s second conflict examines the brittleness of the mind. In the hour Louise Mallard spends locked in her room, she fearfully struggles within her mind with how to accept the death of Mr. Mallard, and the resulting life she will lead. Louise moves from great grief to elation (over her freedom), by allowing her mind to drift. The narrative reveals Mallard’s repression and resistance as the antagonist for which she, again the protagonist, struggles. The author personifies the antagonist by showing the reader how Mrs. Mallard first resists any intelligent thought, moves to physical resisting and fearing what was coming, to the final overtaking of Mallard’s mind with the idea of freedom. The struggle for Mallard’s mind begins shortly after she allows it to wonder outside the room into the open square outside the house. Almost as if attempting to dismiss the mind altogether, Mallard sits quietly staring into the blue sky. By allowing the “suspension of intelligent thought,” Louise opens her fragile mind to the “monstrous joy” of freedom. Initially resisting the notion - before even knowing what was being born in her mind- complicates the struggle. After moments of staring into the sky, the notion seems to being working its way into Mallard’s mind. Fearfully, and powerlessly, this protagonist is unable to maintain the fight. The conflict’s pinnacle summits when the fantasy of freedom and the prayer for an extended life overtake Louise’s mind. At the point in which Mallard allows herself to be possessed with the concept of freedom, she loses the battle. The only remaining event is the ultimate exorcism that awaits her.
4 Chopin’s third and final conflict is the battle of the will. Ultimately, Mallard’s mind and body are both in the state they are in due to the powerful will of society. Louise reveals the loathing she has for the belief that men and woman “have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow creature.” After her illumination, the will of those men and women emerges as Mallard’s final antagonist. Louise sees the enforcement of the will onto another as a crime, whether with kind or cruel intentions. She is relieved when the idea of complete freedom from another overtakes her. The author implies, throughout the story that Mallard struggles with accepting authority and submission, but never identifies the moment the struggle beings. The reader assumes Louise Mallard’s feelings have developed through the process of time, and marriage. The degree of contempt Mallard has for the “will of society” would indicate that, although she loved Mr. Mallard, she might have been a victim of oppression. Complicating the feelings toward the antagonist is the delusion of freedom, which Mallard has allowed to overtake her. The chants of freedom, allowing her “fancy” to have a “riot” continued to build the disillusion of a life without a willful force. The victory Louise believed to have obtained, distracted her from the reality that continued to be life. The climax of her struggle with the will of society comes when the “feverish triumph” forms in Mrs. Mallard’s eyes. Once the illusions have complete overtaken Mallard’s body, and mind, the victory she believes to have made over the societal will, is the final step into complete disillusionment. The peak has been reached and all that is left is the fall.
5 Life cannot continue in a person whose body, mind, and will are broken. Chopin shows us that Mrs. Mallard, full of the delusion of freedom from the bonds of marriage, cannot continue to exist in the reality she so vehemently resisted during her hour. As Louise descents the stairs, she fully allows the fantasy world to take her body, mind and will, leaving nothing when the site of Mr. Mallard materializes before her eyes. Lost to the fantasy world, but faced with reality, her will breaks, her mind fractured, and her body cannot continue, and death consumes her. Chopin’s narrative demonstrates to the reader the fragility of this triad in a powerful and provocative manner.
Monday, December 15, 2008
New Memories
Last week was interesting....
I spent almost 2 hours in my boss's office talking about Mom and how I was doing. I was having a tough week and did not quite know why.
I knew that earlier in the week I had a dream about Mom. We were in a different house, and her belongings were spread around. In the small room we were in, there was a couple bookshelves, and boxes full of her stuff. She was standing next to a fire place and I was packing some of her stuff up.
I stopped when I realized that she would be leaving and walked over to her. "You can leave yet it's not even March" I said, while I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a big hug. "I miss you" I finished.
I don't remember if she said anything, I think she might have said "I miss you too", but I realized that I was dreaming and woke up, and became choked up.
I miss her a lot.
The next night I had a dream that Barb (my step-mom who raised me for 11 years) was still alive but very sick. She and I talked, and at one point I asked her what her favorite thing about me was. She did answer but I don't remember what she said in the dream.... :-(
By the time I Wednesday rolled around I was feeling the blues. My manager had needed to talk to me for something unrelated so I met with her. Near the end of our meeting she told me that we were going to do a safety discussion next year on prescription drug abuse, which I had requested. So we got to talking and I told her a lot of what has happened over the last few months in the after math of Mom's death. There was times that it was hard to hold it together but I managed to tell her how I was feeling.
While talking to her about the dreams I realized something that I hadn't figured out yet. That the reason I was so bothered by it and why it was affecting me so great was because I never expected to have another memory of her.
I've always known I can look at pictures and videos of her, but I also realized, or thought, that once she was gone it was over...no more spending time with her, no more new memories. So to experience something new was a wonderful, yet sorrowful experience. I know it was just a dream but the emotions I felt during and after are real. The fact that I could hug her and tell her I miss her and have her respond was a blessing in sorts.
So although it was a tough few days last week, I'm glad for the new memories...
I spent almost 2 hours in my boss's office talking about Mom and how I was doing. I was having a tough week and did not quite know why.
I knew that earlier in the week I had a dream about Mom. We were in a different house, and her belongings were spread around. In the small room we were in, there was a couple bookshelves, and boxes full of her stuff. She was standing next to a fire place and I was packing some of her stuff up.
I stopped when I realized that she would be leaving and walked over to her. "You can leave yet it's not even March" I said, while I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a big hug. "I miss you" I finished.
I don't remember if she said anything, I think she might have said "I miss you too", but I realized that I was dreaming and woke up, and became choked up.
I miss her a lot.
The next night I had a dream that Barb (my step-mom who raised me for 11 years) was still alive but very sick. She and I talked, and at one point I asked her what her favorite thing about me was. She did answer but I don't remember what she said in the dream.... :-(
By the time I Wednesday rolled around I was feeling the blues. My manager had needed to talk to me for something unrelated so I met with her. Near the end of our meeting she told me that we were going to do a safety discussion next year on prescription drug abuse, which I had requested. So we got to talking and I told her a lot of what has happened over the last few months in the after math of Mom's death. There was times that it was hard to hold it together but I managed to tell her how I was feeling.
While talking to her about the dreams I realized something that I hadn't figured out yet. That the reason I was so bothered by it and why it was affecting me so great was because I never expected to have another memory of her.
I've always known I can look at pictures and videos of her, but I also realized, or thought, that once she was gone it was over...no more spending time with her, no more new memories. So to experience something new was a wonderful, yet sorrowful experience. I know it was just a dream but the emotions I felt during and after are real. The fact that I could hug her and tell her I miss her and have her respond was a blessing in sorts.
So although it was a tough few days last week, I'm glad for the new memories...
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