Catching Up

Hello, old friend... how long has it been since we last spoke? There have been times when I've meant to sit down and tell you the beauty, the ordinariness, the simple rhythm of my days, but those times were never destined to be. But here I am now--and there you are--I'm here, you're there; neither of us are going anywhere, so I know you won't mind if you let me sit and tell for awhile.

I meant to tell you about the small wilderness driven through every day; the creek-bottoms, where the mists lie low and the sycamores grow tall, exposing their bone-white winter arms. I meant to tell you last year of the beauty of the sycamores; of how--wherever they are--there, I am strangely connected.



 I meant to tell you how the sun stayed hidden for most of the week, and how the close comfort of the dreary day settled in to stay, just as the clouds did.

I meant to tell you of the still, silent place at the top of the stairs, where I know a window-sill with the best view in the city waits for me for whenever I might need use of its sanctuary.

I meant to tell you of how I made friends, who keep me laughing, keep me sane; of how one day we were merely working side by side, and the next we were allies working together--and for--the other; of how I don't walk out the door at the end of the day on my lonesome.

I guess I maybe should tell you of how I've found again there's so much more room to grow; of how I've brain-stalled in panic, facing the myriads of faces I don't know, with names I feel I'll never remember; of how I laugh for one minute, but analyze and scrutinize the laugh in the hours that follow. Of how I struggle to remember that I'm no longer high-schooler, or a college kid for that matter, of how I wonder again when I'll ever become Grown Up.

I can tell you now of the storm that just fell upon the house with a sudden roar, of the mug in my hand, of the sweater that falls past wrists and itches slightly in the best way, the Christmas lights draped across the mantle, and the pile of weekend books to be read. And that's where I am now, and here you are with me, at the end.

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