Swallowing Vit C throughout the day has not deterred this cold, probably caught by the grand-children Saturday. Waking at 3 AM, it took work to stay put and go back to sleep till 5.
Thoughts whirled. If you can’t control thoughts, you’re in big trouble, a line, or one similar to it from the Julia Roberts movie, Eat, Love, Pray.
So OK. Flip side to side, then lay flat concentrating on the breath some more. Thoughts quieted, sleep came, albeit interrupted, it came.
With the usual rocking by the fire sipping fresh coffee, thoughts arise. How lucky my life is despite all the struggles. Sons love me, grand-children too, and Samuel, a man unfortunate enough to have a wife almost incapable of love.
Love can be thought of, but rarely felt. There is a glimmer of love deep in the tunnels where it flickers protected. For myself, for others. But it is not accessed easily like most who are trusting, warm, and open.
How could it be out in the open where that kernel of essence could be completely annihilated? When all that was precious shattered, the only whole fragment left lay in the vault of a vault, so walled in no one gets at it, even safe ones, even me.
It is as it is due to what was done, no fault of my own. It does mean I cannot love or feel love, but do so only in the safety of aloneness where I can think of you without you near me. There love flows.