Grief

 It's been a week. 

Elder turning 21 hit me harder than I expected.

His ongoing health matters weigh on me. 

A cherished colleague said goodbye today.

I'm just feeling beaten up by all the things.

I left a little after 5 to take a drive. I cranked John Coltrane's A Love Supreme as I headed northwest, avoiding the main roads and opting for the countryside. Subdivisions gave way to open fields in the twilight. Hawks roosted high, looking for dinner before nightfall. The snow gleamed white in the hills, making the darkness brighter as I went.

At my destination, old friends greeted me, and the light and warmth of one of my favorite places revived me. I felt my step lighten.  I settled and headed back home a different way, but no less scenic. I felt less heavy. Even the Jazz sounded brighter as I headed home. 

And, heading back a different way, I happened upon a little town near us festooned with lights, like Christmas.  It took my breath away, with the snow on the ground and people walking the streets, almost as if everything were back to 'normal', life pre-pandemic. It was less than a year ago hubby and I had our last "date," an overnight at a Bed and Breakfast and dinner out--and it feels like it was decades ago. 

I'm glad to be home. And I'm glad there's still a world out there.