Sunday, April 18, 2010

A Desert Year Post

I guess this would be in my Desert Year blog if it were still current.

I keep forgetting to prepare myself for the crashes.

Last week I asked The Lovely Daughter whether she still feels, every day, like this could not possibly be our lives.

"Oh yeah,"she said.

And then I had three wonderful days, listening to two amazing presentations by and conversing for hours with one of the people I most treasure in this world.

But you know what? This is still my life.

I don't have any idea, really, how anyone survives this.


  1. Somehow, we do. But we're never the same.

  2. It always comes back to that, doesn't it. There's nothing we can do to change the facts. I experienced that feeling again arriving back in Maui...almost unbearable pain for days, then...after a huge cry, the load is lighter again. I just know there is another life coming that will sort this one all out for us heavy-laden travellers. Walking by your side, here...

  3. The only way I did was one step at a time, which I am well aware is no damn help to the one having to take those steps. I can only say to you, as was said to me "I am here, lean on me if you like".

    My prayers are for you and for those who grieve.

  4. I suppose this is why we speak of "waves" of grief-- they swamp us.

    With you, holding you in prayer.

  5. I see a sense of continuity and connection in this post ... even though you're expressing sorrow and that desert experience.

    It reminds me of the scripture readings over and over and over of Jesus going back into the desert. I think sometimes I just assumed it was always because he chose to do so.

    Perhaps he, too, found himself saying "here again?.... really?"

    I find inspiration and strength in the reality of your experience. The willingness to articulate that reality.

    Sending you virtual hugs, and my prayer is that you feel the support that surrounds you.

  6. Cindy, what a wonderful and incredible understanding of Jesus in the desert. Again and again.