But you are not your bank account, or your ambition. You're not the cold clay lump you leave behind when you die. You're not your collection of walking personality disorders. You are Spirit, you are love, and even though it is hard to believe sometimes, you are free. You're here to love, and be loved, freely. If you find out next week that you are terminally ill - and we're all terminally ill on this bus - what will matter are memories of beauty, that people loved you, and that you loved them. [Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith]
And I think that laughter and silliness and simply experiencing Life without a Life jacket matter, too. They matter a LOT!!
These past months have a lot of blanks in them. I mean I was Present and accounted for throughout, but there is so little I really remember. Yet there is so very much I will never forget.
The mail art that has deLIGHTed me and anyone near the mailbox when I go collect my mail.
The little notes back and forth from people who read my Gratitude, people who feel as real as any true friend even if we’ve never met or spoken.
And then there is waking up each morning to a brand new day…
I love you, Currie