#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
I'm sixty. I'm a sixty year old woman, and I woke up grateful to be alive. I had an astonishing dream last night. I was captured by an antagonistic gang. Being held captive, my life was threatened at every moment. I was trying to survive, and also preparing to die at every moment. I wanted peace. I wanted to be thinking the best thoughts that would bring me peace if death came. In the dream, I did what I heard my Aunt Marion do when she was dying, and her sister, my mother, dreamed the same dreams as they were dying. They called out to their father who had passed before them. I told myself in the dream, dream of being with your father who has gone before you, and I did. And it wasn't my moment to go. I woke up astonished to be alive. I've lived longer than my aunt who died in her fifties. I want to walk into this new day with zest and see what's in store, what I'll discover, and how I'll create something new. Imagine.
Birthday dinner on national siblings day and all three kids are here for the birthday of the youngest one; as they were twenty-two years ago. Home, all together for the first time. I make chicken and wine, (Julia Child’s), the special request, the meal my mother taught me that’s everyone’s favorite.
April was for so many years the cruelest month. I lost so many loved ones in April: my first love, my favorite cousin. Nana, Frank’s grandmother died in April, and my own mother too. Franci’s birth in April was a sign of healing and hope. Is a sign of healing and hope. I still miss them all, every one, and always will. But there’s a birth in April I will always celebrate too. Twenty-two years ago. I carried her home.