I'm unsure what to write about as there is a soup of feeling bubbling in me. Christmas season is over. Back to work, sure, but I love my work, so that's no hardship. I work in an amazing treehouse. What I'm unsure of is how to process the loss that comes my way as I get older. I've lost friends, dear family, loves, hopes and some dreams. Even some traditions, those things that can comfort us so by being repeated and looked forward to, are lost.
Breathing helps. Remembering what IS rather than what ISN'T helps. Clinging to those I love. Being grateful for what I am and have. But there is always the whisper of what has gone in every prayer for what is.
The girl group, the Dala, is coming to Banff Centre next week to play the Club. I'm intent on getting tickets. I hope that they play their song Hockey Sweater, which I send out into the ether for Brooks, my nephews' uncle and brother to Keven. Brooks died suddenly just before Christmas. His absence is a reminder, that as sad as I might be at my losses, I'm still here.
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