Trying to sort, to filter, to grasp. Ideas, thoughts, musings whirl and spin and flit out of reach like dried leaves, fallen and skipping down the sidewalk on the whim of a breeze so slight it’s invisible to the slack hanging flag. Occasionally I snatch one up in my grasp and the color is all wrong – this one is for later, this one is not for telling, or this is one just for the two of us to share. Keep trying; keep running after the ones who get away, those are the ones who must be captured by my fingers quietly tapping at the keyboard.

And my life, it too is drifting in the wind, elusive and unstructured in these days of chaos as I pack and unpack and up and down and back and forth and never knowing what will greet my eyes as they open with the dawn. But it is a good life, this one that is whirling around me madly, a life full of love and promise and potential and always the glow of that baby who waits to see what I will do with his legacy until we meet again. Today son, today I will make you proud, today I will live as the Momma without her baby, the woman not broken, just scarred in a way that sheds light instead of absorbing it. Today I will be the woman I was meant to become when God chose this path for me, today Joel’s name will ring loud and true because I will speak it in joy and not in the hushed tones of sorrow.

And I keep wandering, still chasing and this to do list ever growing but I push it back to enjoy a moment with the Daddy or the Aunt, those things can come later, but some can’t and so the days slip away from me and so do the moments of wishing and imagining a different ending, but what is here is not the end it is somehow still the beginning. Never forget that, the beginning, this beginning, our life, our family, our story is still just beginning. There is so much more to happen, to develop, to love and live and learn and the wall that cut short my favorite story is solid but not wide and it diverts the path to this detour that was the road all along.

I feel like a hobo, a gypsy a woman with no roots but it’s all fine with me if I’m chasing what matters under these wandering feet. I’ve little time for the keyboard these days but my mind still spins with tales untold and finding a new place in this great big blogosphere and wondering how I got here and where I should go next and do I have a great story to tell and does it even matter? But today this is what matters and so I sit for a moment and write down this fleeting feeling and the biggest question I choose to tackle is whether soup is good for lunch or if leftovers suit me better. Somehow this peace that He has sent me tells me the big questions will be answered in time and I’ve none to spare as I grapple with that to do list and throw in a load of laundry to ready for the bag that won’t be unpacked before it’s packed again. So off I go again, chasing the dream and rolling and soaring the miles to spend the minutes with the one that made so many dreams come true already and we both know there are more to come. Today my love, I am grounded, but my heart soars longingly to where you are and soon my feet will follow…