The Shirells were of course always right. There are dark days.

Days that were supposed to be rainy but turned out sunny but are still dark.  Days we don’t know what’s going to happen. 

Mama why?  Even The Shirells don’t seem to have an answer.  Why-> even at my age I don’t know.   Some seem so sure or certain or don’t care or worked a way around it, but not me.  What I do know for solid is I love you today.  I love you tomorrow if we get it.  I love you all of them.  Even days like this.

My kids run in fields horses used to.

Be.           And Be there for each other.

El Dia

In an attempt to get rid of the junk I accidentally deleted my last voicemails from a friend who has passed. A spark of panic followed by frantic un-delete attempts followed by a downward cast head. Then I thought of the cloud and backups. I briefly tried the cloud but quickly retreated and let them go. I mourned the loss.

I say mourn because it felt/feels like that but I’m also getting how strange and perhaps silly this all is to feel the pang of digital loss. What a world the still living of us live in.

It reminded me of that time my AC/DC High Voltage audio-tape got pulled out of cassette and tangled and I could never get it rewound. Even in the analog realm there are these types of loss. Difference is I could always replace High Voltage, I can’t ever get those voicemails back.

I’m a nostalgic pack rat so I do have other notes/pictures/tangibles from this friend but there is something about a voice that is impossible to recreate. It is in fact a loss. I’m giving myself that grace.

All of our still living voices—> let’s listen extra hard to each other while we can.

This is who we have=become/are now.

Island Life(s).

I went looking for gold and found people. Or was I looking for people and struck gold? Either way.