It's Fall, and the rains have not arrived yet. Everything is drying, except the morning fog over the ocean and the lake. Lights from crab boats bob through the night on the Ocean, like stars in the sky. Overhead, the sky is calm. Winds are soft whispers.
This is a false lull.
We're anticipating furious storms any day now, storms that will shut us in the house for hours and days. Newkie, our new cat, will be shocked at the violence of the winds. She'll have to become an indoor cat exclusively.
We've been on curvy and treacherous roads since July. Literally.Metaphorically. Roads with names like Shock, Grief, Funeral, Memorial, Probate, District Attorney, Crime Unit Investigations. We are tired and worn out. We sleep poorly. Our patterns have changed. Our foundation has shifted.
There will be a next stage.
But, as in an earthquake, the next stage is the mess you alone deal with. Everybody else will have moved on. You deal with the clean up, the re-building, the healing.
As long as you have life, you will have stages.
Like seasons, they each bring new perspectives and new challenges.
