Let me remember that each life must follow its own course, and that what happens to other people has absolutely nothing to do with what happens to me

(Marjorie Holmes)
I am tired tonight. Spent. I am not sure why, only that I can barely keep my eyes open and yet I am drawn to my computer if only to mark some space and time in the ether so that there is evidence that I was here. I had lunch with a friend today. We hadn't spent any time together in awhile and we covered some serious ground. She seems to be going through a similar growth spurt as I am. We are the same age, in the same field and have lots of similar theories on life, you could say we get each other. She and I have pondered many mysteries together, some quite deep, like "Is there a God?" And if there is, why is there pain in the world. We've also pondered Fairies and magic and Mother Earth. And some of the more mundane mysteries, like, why am I here? What's in this life for me? And, is this my first life and if I don't like the way this one is going can I have a do over?

Today we talked about some of the even more mundane mysteries, like what the hell am I supposed to be doing with my lfie and do I deserve to be happy? Of course we would tell each other "of course you deserve to be happy", only believing that the other deserved the happiness, because surely I have done something that justifies denial of my happiness.

Because we have set off on one path, does that mean we cannot change course and venture out onto another trail? Do we have to hold ourselves back because a previous committment that may no longer apply to our current lives weighs us down? Can we rightfully claim our desire to be happy and act on it, now, in the later part of our life, when we have begun to learn who we truly are? Is denying our happiness either a form of punishment or committment? Loyalty? We are all struggling to figure out who we are and where we fit in this world and sometimes it takes awhile to get to a place where the wonder of who we truly are begins to dawn on us. It is when this happens that we are faced with the hardest decisions of our lives....do we stay stuck in the past, dragging along the baggage that we kept near us like a security blanket, or do we shed it and grow, allowing ourselves the acknowledgement that we deserve to be happy. Are we obligated to hold ourselves back at the presipice of discovery because we do not want to be considered cruel for moving on. Accusing ourselves of abandonment.....

I say we are not obligated, no one has the power to deny us our happiness but ourselves. We can give that power away by looking for a reason to stay in the past out of fear. Really it's only fear. Fear that if we venture out and finally release ourselves to be happy, we will be.

"Weave a thread of blood through time, Ladders of lives we all have climbed. Grandmother sail on summerland seas. I honor you who live in me".

So, weekend before last my Mom says to me that she feels she should come and get my Grandparents and take them home with her. Not such an odd statement, accept that my Grandparents have passed on and are probably running white lightning in Summerland. As I mentioned before, I live in my Grandparent's house and am moving out, therefore, time for my Grandparents to move on as well.

My Grandfather, Papa, passed on more than 19 years ago and my Grandmother, Mom J, kept his ashes here at the Ranch with her. They wanted to be 'sprinkled' together after she died. Yes, I said DIED.....I keep trying to make it 'less' than it is, like it was just a small little event, 'passing' on, however, I'm trying to be real, so, let's call a spade a spade, she died, there I said it again, SHE DIED, whew, that kind of feels good. I might say it some more before I'm done tonight.

Okay, back to my Mom, well, actually just the leaving of my Grandparents' remains. So, my Mom makes arrangements with me to come out around lunchtime on Sunday to collect my Grandparents, but, before she heads out, I run in to town to get some errands done, as I'm pulling out of our little neighborhood out in the sticks, I come to a small intersection on our dirt road and there in the middle of the interseciton is the biggest black bird I've ever seen, it stops me dead. Oops, there I go again using the D word (hehehehe). I kid you not the bird is staring me right in the eyes, he/she does not move, just stands there in the road, staring back at me. I let the car roll a little and bird stands it's ground, holding me in it's stare, I roll the car a little more, the bird hops sideways a bit, still holding my gaze, I roll some more, another hop and I cannot stop staring back at this huge black bird and I have this amazing feeling that this bird is here for me, a gift from Summerland, telling me someone is paying attention. This goes on for a good 5 minutes or more before the bird makes a small flight to the fence on the property fronting our little road, still watching me, following my car as it passes on the road. I wonder about this bird all the way into town, but, only for a short while and by the time I return and my Mom has arrived, I've all but forgotten about my friend.

My Mom and I discuss where she might 'put' Mom J and Papa, she tells me that she will probably put them on the hearth, in the living room. I ask her to promise me that she won't put them behind the bar, My Papa drank and Mom J hated it, so, I elicited a promise from my Mom and she kindly agrees and leaves with my Grandparents' small boxes of ashes. She needs them at her house for some other reasons, which, at some point I might share with you, when we get to know each other better.

So, again, I have no other thoughts about this black bird, until I go to leave for work on Monday morning and the same scene is played out again, at the intersection, there, as if waiting for me, is the black bird, same place, same stance, same stubbon stare. I freeze in my tracks, or rather, I freeze the rolling of the car, in it's tracks....and I stare and as I stare, realization hits, this is a gift from Summerland, my Grandmother is telling me she knows things are changing, moving and growing, She knows that 'WE' are leaving the property She and my Papa lived in for more than 30 years, their Summerland, so to speak. I have watched and hoped to see the black bird again, but, I have not been blessed with another visit, perhaps the black bird is at my Mom's house, making it's presence known, protecting my Grandparents as they journey through Summerland on the way to their next destination.