A cinematic quality to your moonish meandering accompanied by hounds. What a deeply precious moment Suleika. What a gift. Thank you for letting us peep inside.
I read Orbital by Samantha Harvey over Christmas while suffering from terminal flu (actually I felt furious, flu and cancer. Eff that!). And since then I am like a 5 year old about the night sky. Is that a star? A planet? What, actually Venus? Stopppp. But there they sit, winking and guiding us away from the trials on Earth and up to the cosmos, the beauty. Libby, thank you for sharing the idea of a ritual walk. Gosh 5am though! I am waiting for results of a scan to check on my lovely lungs. A walk, a frosty walk, yes. Thank you all here for seeing the beauty in the bricks. ✨
Ah, Mel...what to say, other than please please universe, send Mel good news about her lovely lungs. I can so relate to that liminal waiting space...Schroedinger-like...as long as the results are yet to arrive, both good news and bad co-exist in our heart and mind...I am rooting for you and your lungs.
Your words are luminous, a perfect echo of that moonlit walk you so vividly describe. It’s rare to read something that feels both deeply personal and profoundly universal, but you’ve captured it here — the strange magic of the in-between hours, when the world is quiet enough to hear the pulse of life itself.
I love the image of you wrapped in a quilt, breath clouding the air, River and Sunshine transformed into solemn moonlit companions. That “thrumming fullness” you describe resonates — how illness, for all its cruelty, can paradoxically open up moments of connection to something vast and ineffable. It’s as though the universe slipped you a reminder in that silver glow: you are still wild, still part of the great rhythm.
And Roethke’s lines! They settle in like an exhalation, the perfect companion to your musings. “This shaking keeps me steady” — isn’t that the crux of it all? How the very things that unmoor us can also root us in deeper truths?
Your story reminded me of a night years ago when I found myself awake at an odd hour. It had been a hard day. On a whim, I grabbed a coat and stepped outside, where I found a frost-covered world under a clear, starry sky. I wandered aimlessly, my breath forming tiny clouds, until I stumbled upon a frozen pond. It glowed faintly in the starlight, and I just stood there, overwhelmed by the quiet beauty of it. I’d been feeling so disconnected and burnt out, but in that moment, I felt oddly whole, as if the universe had gently nudged me to pay attention, to be present, to breathe.
Thank you for sharing your own moonlit pilgrimage — it inspires me to step into my own small meanderings with more wonder and maybe a little quilt-wrapped mischief.
The tuxedo cat...one street away from my beloved home, and I see it climb from the sewer opening at the base of the sidewalk. We meet eyes as I slow my car to stop to a stop to let her cross the street. She took her time. I love that about cats. My gut reaction was to feel sorry for it (it's still snowy and cold here), but it was well nourished, glossy, and I then thought, "She is out for an adventure and is going anywhere she wants to go. I need to be more like her.
I love your writings, and those of others that you share. My life is so busy, I go to work, 40 plus hours/week. My shift starts at 4am, so I usually don't get to spend much time outside in the morning. But, because I have dogs, I am always in and out with them. Thankfully, my yard is fairly private, and big enough that my ball chaser can run at full speed when I throw it (during daylight). Today I woke up to moonshine in my bedroom.
I love how you took your night awakening and made it a magical moment. You’re really good at that. I haven’t been following you lately because I recently made my winter pilgrimage from upstate New York to West Palm Beach, always so much to do . Now that I am on the upside of 80 , sometimes I don’t sleep much and often wake before Dawn. the beauty is I get to sit on my front lanai and watch the first light and then the beautiful Florida pink sky. My two little dogs are always by my side. we listen as the world awakens. The birds, early risers in cars on Dixie Highway just a block away. Yesterday on my way to get sushi I watched and waited quite a while, to cross a busy road as our new president, who lives only across the intercoastal, headed for the airport with a motorcade of at least 50 cars. How did this happen? I ask myself, but I know that to be serene. I must accept that which I cannot change.🙏🏻
I think I was up with the very same moon, standing by the window watching. But you — you grabbed that quilt, you opened the door, you set off for an adventure into the woods, down by the creek, beside that dusting of snow. You've taken us all there. We've danced with you. And yes to Libby—to how and what we discover when we open ourselves to it.
I wake each night around two, search for the moon. Sometimes I never fall back to sleep. A few days ago, around five, I went outside, but only briefly. Suleika's story here is one of great beauty, and heartbreak, of course, and always. A dear friend of mine, Will Dowd, who is also living with a body that does not equal his great mind, has a Substack, the Lunar Dispatch, that tells the story of the full moon each month. He is a poet and historian with a soul-shatteringly gorgeous way of searching and seeing. His stack, when he is able to write it, might inspire your moon journey.
As you began to describe the walk towards the wood I could hear as clearly as if he was singing in my ear; “Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance …”
*Please know you are not alone in this time of physical pain and illness. I felt like you have been living in MY body and brain as you described the vague line between awake and asleep. Aware and asunder. I root for a better time soon; knowing we have only a modicum of control over such things at this point in the journey. I know we are all thinking of you and very grateful that amidst these trials you choose to give us the gift of a Moondance. ☮️❤️🌷
Thank you. The moon has seen me through some very tough times. She’s so steady and inviting. There are great comforts in her presence, gifts beyond measure. Heal well. Your voice is needed here for a lot longer. ✨
I admire your bravery Suleika! I felt like a little kid reading about your 3am walking adventure and your friend’s delightful walk in the darkness. For me, reaching out to a friend I raised babies with, and hadn’t seen in 30 years. We’ve reconnected our friendship. Her life has never changed in routine, playing canasta, and living in the same apartment all these years that when I reconnected I felt like I went back in time. My life has been all over the place, but what I’ve learned from my reconnection is we’re very different and I accept my friend the way she is not the way I want her to be, and she accepts me. What a gift and blessing! Thank you beautiful Suleika and thank you to this gorgeous community.
For some reason, a couple of years ago, my husband and I started getting up on Sunday morning and going to a restaurant we like, at 6AM, when they opened. It turns out, about 15 or 20 people do the same thing. The restaurant is nice and quiet and we always have a great breakfast. We noticed the same people sit at the exact same table every Sunday, so we started doing it too. Normally the policy is to wait until the waitress seats you, but so early, they don’t mind the small group sitting where they choose. Near us, are two different women, each sitting at separate tables. One woman has health issues and drinks coffee, while waiting for her to go order. The other woman orders the exact same thing every Sunday morning, a half of waffle and coffee. One morning the one woman was having breathing problems and called 911. We didn’t realize this until the firemen and paramedics arrived. My husband, being a retired fireman, went over to talk to them, after they assured her, she would be okay. I talked with the woman who ordered a waffle. She was going to take her new friend home. The next Sunday, we found out one of them was named Anita and one was named Karen. We are all friends now and we say “see you next Sunday.”
I worry if one of them doesn’t come to breakfast. Today we can’t go, because my husband is sick. We had family over and he did most of the cooking. I know he ate too much and probably drank too much wine while cooking. I wonder if Anita and Karen will wonder why we are not at breakfast this morning?
It is miraculous that so many of us were connected by that marvelous full moon. For me that reflects Gods presence in our world and the hope for peace.
Fresh air is amazing. Sometimes I open the window over the bathtub to let in some fresh cold cold winter air. The contrast with the hot bath water is delicious. When I smoke a puff of medical marijuana, blow it hard out the window, the deer look up and we lock eyes. I don't make them nervous at all. They know me, the lady blowing puffs out of her window. We are accustomed to each other.
Thank you both for the lovely images. Happy Sunday.
Forever and a day, waking is way before dawn. Traveling, I Love to see the cities awakening, memories of fresh bread being left in a basket outside a store. Where was that? Turkey? Dog walking no matter how familiar the streets is an adventure with the unexpected. Quite early philosophical discussions for a minute or two with a fellow explorer from Turin. And then the pups Mozart whose parents house refugee children until their parents are settled. The little Westiie whose Mom and I have heated political discussions. And the lady with flowers on her walker. Her home is emblazoned with politics and love. We talk and she shares stories of life in Germany during unsettled times.
What a delicious story and prompt. I just finished responding to another thoughtful prompt having to do with silence. That prompt issued an affirmation to all the reading I’ve been doing lately about Chinese Ch’an, books by David Hinton: “China Root”, “the selected poems of Wang Wei”, and “Awakened Cosmos”. In that prompt I wrote about a recent encounter with a small red fox. And now, coyote. Another lovely creature who always leaves me in silent wonder. What is it about dear red fox and coyote?
A few years ago I was living in a very small cottage nestled up against woods. One room was my living space, one room my ceramic studio. I would sit at the potter’s wheel throwing porcelain bowls, pause, look up to gaze out the window, to see an old barn covered in green moss, and just beyond the barn, an arch of branches inviting me into the woods. One day as I gazed out the window a coyote appeared in the arch of tree limbs. The coyote stood in silence, then disappeared. What a lovely mystery. Where did it come from? Where did it go?
Years later, now reading about Ch’an, I have words for the experience of silent wonder when red fox and coyote invite me to be still, very silently still. If you are interested, please refer to these books I mentioned. They will richly invite you, as red fox and coyote do, into a state of mirror-mind, quiet Consciousness witnessing itself. After this first sighting of coyote I would ache for another sighting. “Please come back, dear coyote”, became a daily wish. Then one day, feeling this ache, I gazed out my window and coyote stepped again into the arch of tree limbs. This coyote appeared, seemed to silently “say” “I am here”, then still as can be disappeared. Ch’an refers to Absence and Presence. Here in meeting red fox and coyote I experienced “mirror-mind”; what more can I say, other than “thank you”. 🏮
I live two blocks from the Mississippi River just a bit north of where it meets the Minnesota River. This is sacred Dakota land where they believed the world began. We are home to quite a few nesting pairs of bald eagles. Nests can be found along both rivers about every two miles or so. I keep tabs on each nest as I go about my walks here. It is mating season and soon the nests will hold one or two eggs and the precarious journey to fledgling and survival will begin. Eagles are monogamous and equally share the work of sitting on the eggs and then feeding and protecting the eaglets. It is a gift to be able to witness this amazing ritual in this wild place between two urban areas.
I follow a few live videos of the bald eagle couples in the States. Each displays a great character. They lead funny, interesting, and wild life. I love watching when a male and a female argue about where to place a stick during nestoration. Two couples of them have now hatchlings!
We had a camera on a local nest, which was one of the most widely viewed in the world, but sadly the nest fell down two years ago, during high winds, killing the eaglet that was in it. The pair, nicknamed Nancy and Beau, built a new nest nearby but away from the camera and last year successfully fledged three eaglets! This is highly unusual. It is an emotional roller-coaster watching the brutality of survival but we learn so much in the process about the eagles and ourselves.
I know that nest! It was heart wrenching to watch that video. The MN DNR nest right? Do you see Nancy and Beau in real? How wonderful! Is the camera up and running again? I’m following M15 and F23, Gabby and Beau, and Jacky and Shadow.
Yes, that’s the one. The old camera is still up and Nancy & Beau still show up there from time to time. The new camera is at another nest but right after they put up the camera the pair abandoned that nest and built a new one about 50 yards away so you can’t see their activity. Coincidentally, I just drove by it this morning and saw both eagles sitting by the new nest.
I had 11 pregnancies before I was delivered a live baby.
I never minded the 2 or 3 o'clock feedings. The hour brought stillness and a feeling that there was only us two in the world.
My son changed and fed would spend perhaps 15 minutes before he would drift into that magical land of nod that babies retreat to. In that special time of My son and I we would snuggle and I would whisper how precious he was to me and what I hoped for his future.
I never added my future to our nightly rambles. I had survived 3 cancer treatments and was altogether sure I would be in his future.
I learned. to accept that and enjoy the here and now.
Well I had no more cancers to deal with
He grew into a wonderful man
From 5 lb 4 oz, he is now 6 ft 3 inches tall.
We have walked sometimes on the same path, sometimes different ones,
I am 83 years old tomorrow. I would not trade those early morning times for anything
I play those memories over in my mind. I learned to love and lose the strings. I have learned that we are forever joined. No matter where we are in life.
A cinematic quality to your moonish meandering accompanied by hounds. What a deeply precious moment Suleika. What a gift. Thank you for letting us peep inside.
I read Orbital by Samantha Harvey over Christmas while suffering from terminal flu (actually I felt furious, flu and cancer. Eff that!). And since then I am like a 5 year old about the night sky. Is that a star? A planet? What, actually Venus? Stopppp. But there they sit, winking and guiding us away from the trials on Earth and up to the cosmos, the beauty. Libby, thank you for sharing the idea of a ritual walk. Gosh 5am though! I am waiting for results of a scan to check on my lovely lungs. A walk, a frosty walk, yes. Thank you all here for seeing the beauty in the bricks. ✨
Hoping for good news about your lovely lungs. ❤️
It will be good news. I know it. 😚
Ah, Mel...what to say, other than please please universe, send Mel good news about her lovely lungs. I can so relate to that liminal waiting space...Schroedinger-like...as long as the results are yet to arrive, both good news and bad co-exist in our heart and mind...I am rooting for you and your lungs.
Why thank you kindly Kat. Yes exactly this, both outcomes are possible. I am here. Breathing and loving. 🪐
Love that the book sent you toward wonder! May the night sky continue to be solace in the face of scanxiety ❤️
I love your words. I left the PNW for Rome and I ache for the stars, for a night sky.
The stars, the stars yes. ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Your words are luminous, a perfect echo of that moonlit walk you so vividly describe. It’s rare to read something that feels both deeply personal and profoundly universal, but you’ve captured it here — the strange magic of the in-between hours, when the world is quiet enough to hear the pulse of life itself.
I love the image of you wrapped in a quilt, breath clouding the air, River and Sunshine transformed into solemn moonlit companions. That “thrumming fullness” you describe resonates — how illness, for all its cruelty, can paradoxically open up moments of connection to something vast and ineffable. It’s as though the universe slipped you a reminder in that silver glow: you are still wild, still part of the great rhythm.
And Roethke’s lines! They settle in like an exhalation, the perfect companion to your musings. “This shaking keeps me steady” — isn’t that the crux of it all? How the very things that unmoor us can also root us in deeper truths?
Your story reminded me of a night years ago when I found myself awake at an odd hour. It had been a hard day. On a whim, I grabbed a coat and stepped outside, where I found a frost-covered world under a clear, starry sky. I wandered aimlessly, my breath forming tiny clouds, until I stumbled upon a frozen pond. It glowed faintly in the starlight, and I just stood there, overwhelmed by the quiet beauty of it. I’d been feeling so disconnected and burnt out, but in that moment, I felt oddly whole, as if the universe had gently nudged me to pay attention, to be present, to breathe.
Thank you for sharing your own moonlit pilgrimage — it inspires me to step into my own small meanderings with more wonder and maybe a little quilt-wrapped mischief.
Gorgeous, all around.
Such a beautiful reflection, Tamara, every single word!! ❤️
Thank you so much, Suleika!
Oh what delicious words. ⭐️
The tuxedo cat...one street away from my beloved home, and I see it climb from the sewer opening at the base of the sidewalk. We meet eyes as I slow my car to stop to a stop to let her cross the street. She took her time. I love that about cats. My gut reaction was to feel sorry for it (it's still snowy and cold here), but it was well nourished, glossy, and I then thought, "She is out for an adventure and is going anywhere she wants to go. I need to be more like her.
Love this! The confidence of kitties!
I love your writings, and those of others that you share. My life is so busy, I go to work, 40 plus hours/week. My shift starts at 4am, so I usually don't get to spend much time outside in the morning. But, because I have dogs, I am always in and out with them. Thankfully, my yard is fairly private, and big enough that my ball chaser can run at full speed when I throw it (during daylight). Today I woke up to moonshine in my bedroom.
Thankyou for helping me to appreciate all this 💗
I love how you took your night awakening and made it a magical moment. You’re really good at that. I haven’t been following you lately because I recently made my winter pilgrimage from upstate New York to West Palm Beach, always so much to do . Now that I am on the upside of 80 , sometimes I don’t sleep much and often wake before Dawn. the beauty is I get to sit on my front lanai and watch the first light and then the beautiful Florida pink sky. My two little dogs are always by my side. we listen as the world awakens. The birds, early risers in cars on Dixie Highway just a block away. Yesterday on my way to get sushi I watched and waited quite a while, to cross a busy road as our new president, who lives only across the intercoastal, headed for the airport with a motorcade of at least 50 cars. How did this happen? I ask myself, but I know that to be serene. I must accept that which I cannot change.🙏🏻
That sunrise and the serenity prayer—what a perfect pair ❤️
I think I was up with the very same moon, standing by the window watching. But you — you grabbed that quilt, you opened the door, you set off for an adventure into the woods, down by the creek, beside that dusting of snow. You've taken us all there. We've danced with you. And yes to Libby—to how and what we discover when we open ourselves to it.
The same moon and what we do? That would be a great journal prompt. I am going to try the adventure next time!
This would be such a great prompt!
I wake each night around two, search for the moon. Sometimes I never fall back to sleep. A few days ago, around five, I went outside, but only briefly. Suleika's story here is one of great beauty, and heartbreak, of course, and always. A dear friend of mine, Will Dowd, who is also living with a body that does not equal his great mind, has a Substack, the Lunar Dispatch, that tells the story of the full moon each month. He is a poet and historian with a soul-shatteringly gorgeous way of searching and seeing. His stack, when he is able to write it, might inspire your moon journey.
Thank you for the recommendation. Finding beauty in the darkest of places is incredibly hard and courageous. I am in awe.
❤️❤️❤️
As you began to describe the walk towards the wood I could hear as clearly as if he was singing in my ear; “Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance …”
*Please know you are not alone in this time of physical pain and illness. I felt like you have been living in MY body and brain as you described the vague line between awake and asleep. Aware and asunder. I root for a better time soon; knowing we have only a modicum of control over such things at this point in the journey. I know we are all thinking of you and very grateful that amidst these trials you choose to give us the gift of a Moondance. ☮️❤️🌷
I just had that song on 2 minutes before reading your reply, asking myself if I like any music more than that album.
It’s awfully hard to top!!!
Thank you. The moon has seen me through some very tough times. She’s so steady and inviting. There are great comforts in her presence, gifts beyond measure. Heal well. Your voice is needed here for a lot longer. ✨
I admire your bravery Suleika! I felt like a little kid reading about your 3am walking adventure and your friend’s delightful walk in the darkness. For me, reaching out to a friend I raised babies with, and hadn’t seen in 30 years. We’ve reconnected our friendship. Her life has never changed in routine, playing canasta, and living in the same apartment all these years that when I reconnected I felt like I went back in time. My life has been all over the place, but what I’ve learned from my reconnection is we’re very different and I accept my friend the way she is not the way I want her to be, and she accepts me. What a gift and blessing! Thank you beautiful Suleika and thank you to this gorgeous community.
For some reason, a couple of years ago, my husband and I started getting up on Sunday morning and going to a restaurant we like, at 6AM, when they opened. It turns out, about 15 or 20 people do the same thing. The restaurant is nice and quiet and we always have a great breakfast. We noticed the same people sit at the exact same table every Sunday, so we started doing it too. Normally the policy is to wait until the waitress seats you, but so early, they don’t mind the small group sitting where they choose. Near us, are two different women, each sitting at separate tables. One woman has health issues and drinks coffee, while waiting for her to go order. The other woman orders the exact same thing every Sunday morning, a half of waffle and coffee. One morning the one woman was having breathing problems and called 911. We didn’t realize this until the firemen and paramedics arrived. My husband, being a retired fireman, went over to talk to them, after they assured her, she would be okay. I talked with the woman who ordered a waffle. She was going to take her new friend home. The next Sunday, we found out one of them was named Anita and one was named Karen. We are all friends now and we say “see you next Sunday.”
I worry if one of them doesn’t come to breakfast. Today we can’t go, because my husband is sick. We had family over and he did most of the cooking. I know he ate too much and probably drank too much wine while cooking. I wonder if Anita and Karen will wonder why we are not at breakfast this morning?
Such a sweet Sunday ritual!! ❤️
You've grown a lovely little breakfast ritual and formed a unique tribe! Perhaps you could call the restaurant if you can't text Karen and Anita.
I never thought of that but maybe next time if we have to miss it.
It is miraculous that so many of us were connected by that marvelous full moon. For me that reflects Gods presence in our world and the hope for peace.
Fresh air is amazing. Sometimes I open the window over the bathtub to let in some fresh cold cold winter air. The contrast with the hot bath water is delicious. When I smoke a puff of medical marijuana, blow it hard out the window, the deer look up and we lock eyes. I don't make them nervous at all. They know me, the lady blowing puffs out of her window. We are accustomed to each other.
Thank you both for the lovely images. Happy Sunday.
Sending love.
“We are accustomed to each other” ❤️❤️❤️
Forever and a day, waking is way before dawn. Traveling, I Love to see the cities awakening, memories of fresh bread being left in a basket outside a store. Where was that? Turkey? Dog walking no matter how familiar the streets is an adventure with the unexpected. Quite early philosophical discussions for a minute or two with a fellow explorer from Turin. And then the pups Mozart whose parents house refugee children until their parents are settled. The little Westiie whose Mom and I have heated political discussions. And the lady with flowers on her walker. Her home is emblazoned with politics and love. We talk and she shares stories of life in Germany during unsettled times.
What a delicious story and prompt. I just finished responding to another thoughtful prompt having to do with silence. That prompt issued an affirmation to all the reading I’ve been doing lately about Chinese Ch’an, books by David Hinton: “China Root”, “the selected poems of Wang Wei”, and “Awakened Cosmos”. In that prompt I wrote about a recent encounter with a small red fox. And now, coyote. Another lovely creature who always leaves me in silent wonder. What is it about dear red fox and coyote?
A few years ago I was living in a very small cottage nestled up against woods. One room was my living space, one room my ceramic studio. I would sit at the potter’s wheel throwing porcelain bowls, pause, look up to gaze out the window, to see an old barn covered in green moss, and just beyond the barn, an arch of branches inviting me into the woods. One day as I gazed out the window a coyote appeared in the arch of tree limbs. The coyote stood in silence, then disappeared. What a lovely mystery. Where did it come from? Where did it go?
Years later, now reading about Ch’an, I have words for the experience of silent wonder when red fox and coyote invite me to be still, very silently still. If you are interested, please refer to these books I mentioned. They will richly invite you, as red fox and coyote do, into a state of mirror-mind, quiet Consciousness witnessing itself. After this first sighting of coyote I would ache for another sighting. “Please come back, dear coyote”, became a daily wish. Then one day, feeling this ache, I gazed out my window and coyote stepped again into the arch of tree limbs. This coyote appeared, seemed to silently “say” “I am here”, then still as can be disappeared. Ch’an refers to Absence and Presence. Here in meeting red fox and coyote I experienced “mirror-mind”; what more can I say, other than “thank you”. 🏮
I live two blocks from the Mississippi River just a bit north of where it meets the Minnesota River. This is sacred Dakota land where they believed the world began. We are home to quite a few nesting pairs of bald eagles. Nests can be found along both rivers about every two miles or so. I keep tabs on each nest as I go about my walks here. It is mating season and soon the nests will hold one or two eggs and the precarious journey to fledgling and survival will begin. Eagles are monogamous and equally share the work of sitting on the eggs and then feeding and protecting the eaglets. It is a gift to be able to witness this amazing ritual in this wild place between two urban areas.
Very exciting …nesting bald eagles!
Here in Valley Forge we have a heron rookery. These birds and wild ones are such a gift!
I follow a few live videos of the bald eagle couples in the States. Each displays a great character. They lead funny, interesting, and wild life. I love watching when a male and a female argue about where to place a stick during nestoration. Two couples of them have now hatchlings!
We had a camera on a local nest, which was one of the most widely viewed in the world, but sadly the nest fell down two years ago, during high winds, killing the eaglet that was in it. The pair, nicknamed Nancy and Beau, built a new nest nearby but away from the camera and last year successfully fledged three eaglets! This is highly unusual. It is an emotional roller-coaster watching the brutality of survival but we learn so much in the process about the eagles and ourselves.
Wooow amazing that you watch them for real. Someday I’d like to see a bald eagle and a wolf in wild with my eyes!
I know that nest! It was heart wrenching to watch that video. The MN DNR nest right? Do you see Nancy and Beau in real? How wonderful! Is the camera up and running again? I’m following M15 and F23, Gabby and Beau, and Jacky and Shadow.
Yes, that’s the one. The old camera is still up and Nancy & Beau still show up there from time to time. The new camera is at another nest but right after they put up the camera the pair abandoned that nest and built a new one about 50 yards away so you can’t see their activity. Coincidentally, I just drove by it this morning and saw both eagles sitting by the new nest.
I had 11 pregnancies before I was delivered a live baby.
I never minded the 2 or 3 o'clock feedings. The hour brought stillness and a feeling that there was only us two in the world.
My son changed and fed would spend perhaps 15 minutes before he would drift into that magical land of nod that babies retreat to. In that special time of My son and I we would snuggle and I would whisper how precious he was to me and what I hoped for his future.
I never added my future to our nightly rambles. I had survived 3 cancer treatments and was altogether sure I would be in his future.
I learned. to accept that and enjoy the here and now.
Well I had no more cancers to deal with
He grew into a wonderful man
From 5 lb 4 oz, he is now 6 ft 3 inches tall.
We have walked sometimes on the same path, sometimes different ones,
I am 83 years old tomorrow. I would not trade those early morning times for anything
I play those memories over in my mind. I learned to love and lose the strings. I have learned that we are forever joined. No matter where we are in life.
Happy birthday to you! Thank you for this beautiful meditation on gratitude. ❤️
Have a lovely birthday, Patricia ❄️