One of my old friends from IDAHO got the word week before last that she has double breast cancer and a few dirty lymph nodes. Just heard a few minutes ago that one of my closest colleagues in the business community will undergo heart surgery tomorrow, not exactly emergency but important enough to be scheduled after his MD appointment this morning. My mentor was just voted out of a business that he built and of which he has been a partner for 41 years.
I remember the week my dad died and the naif chapter of my life closed for good. I thought, is this it? You work hard, save your money, retire, get sick and die? For those that have seen it, that was the week I commissioned The Table of the Four Seasons. That was my response. I still don't have any more answers than I did then. But I have seen and tasted some fearfully beautiful, joyous, and wonderous moments since then. There is beauty all around me. And by God, I'm going to go out and find some.
JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA
9 comments:
live fully in the moment.
just like job, you've got to embrace the good as well as the bad and lean on those close to you for support.
There is beauty all around me.
Find some for me too. Thanks.
Yes, even in our darkest moments we can find rays of beauty. Hope things are looking up soon.
TBITYTC.
I would add between that last "T" and "C" an "always."
Always.
I'm not familiar with the Table of the Four Seasons, but I like the determination in "I'm going to go out and find some." Live fully, Cheech...get your fill.
Happy Tuesday to you.
You go, Girl!
We appreciate those moments. That can get us through a day or even a week. Be hopefully and happy Tuesday.
Joy is given to those that appreciate it. So appreciate.
I know this place upon death of one most beloved. Death is the great inducer of perspective, mmm hmmm.
When my longest standing friend died of lung CA almost a decade ago (goodness how time flies), I went out and spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars on a pair of black lizard-skin pointy-ass cowboy boots I'd had my eye on but couldn't see my way to justify buying. I figured, you can't take it with you, life is brief, why the hell not, you know, why the hell not.
Since then, and after the death of my Dad, I still touch this place and I smile when I do. It serves a very important life lesson. It re-minds me to live...here and now, here and now.
Nice piece, Schmeebsie.
Thanks.
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