|the miracle of another sunrise over river and woods|
I would like to write about my feelings over the past week, yet I cannot. Maybe I will write them later and not put them up here, I guess, for family privacy. I think there’s a book somewhere in the brain jumbles if my sister and I can get together on it. I'm fairly exploding with the need to write it. I was thankful that the TKT poetry writing was smack dab in the middle of all the past week's events. The competition was somewhat of a distraction while my mind was racing alongside me this week.
I guess I can say, because it is on the Internet already, that much of it revolves around the uncertainty of the 23 hours over night that my grandnephew - my sister’s 12 year old grandson - was missing last week. Suffice it to say being overnight with just a sweatshirt for warmth in the Maine woods in a swamp is not the place to be in March. And needless to say there has been much rejoicing in our family, albeit quiet rejoicing, private rejoicing.
I have seen the sun come up, and have seen it set. I have seen Jupiter and Venus shining so brightly they seem to be suns sneaking into our solar system. I have written poetry that I liked pretty well, and others seemed to enjoy also - how nice is that?
But yesterday and today I have been blessed to be able to spend the days with my grandnephew as he heals from hypothermia and frostbite. I can’t really write about it much. I just have found the experience to be a delight and a privilege to spend time with him talking, playing video games, and reading poetry (and forcing him to drink liters of water) in his recovery mode.
It has been a wonderful two days. Busy writing, busy reading, busy sitting, busy thinking. Busy, busy, busy as I sit watching him heal. It’s been busy and emotional, but in such a good way.
Inside I am shouting.