I have come to the conclusion that life alters my perception of reality and death, although tinged with confusion, has a way of clarifying things.
The death of my aunt altered my life as if part of my own self died. Each subsequent death (off hand count 8 humans, a friend’s dog, and my own cat) was like hammering copper. I’m hardened by the awareness of mortality. There really is no tomorrow. Someday never comes.
This is it… life: raw and real and right now.
I am told that I sing in my sleep. My dreams of late are laced with people, past and present, and then, more often than not, I wake up with Pearl Jam tunes in my head: Black, Even Flow, Alive, and this one… I Am Mine.
I’m not depressed… not manic, either. I’m just aware that life is now. Elusive dreams gave way to concrete goals with executable plans. I am focused. I am here. I am alive… living, breathing, laughing, loving, making art, cleaning house, just being grandma and all these things… savoring these moments.
Thanks for reading!