Second Thoughts — Surprised by Pain
Greetings Dear Reader,
Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out. Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder. I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.
The weather is such that there is a damp chill in the air. I pulled out a very old sweater to keep from getting chilled whilst I prepared dinner and watched Jeopardy. The day has been fairly easy and I am coasting into the evening.
It is likely that I have not worn this sweater in twelve years. It is one of my old teaching sweaters that I used to ward off the damp winter days in Georgia; days much like today. The temperature is above freezing but the rain is gelatinous. I would walk from my office to chapel in sweaters like this one as a coat was too heavy.
After moving to the northern Midwest this garment was too light for winters and too heavy for autumn or spring. Instead I reserved it for gaming in the basement with friends I dearly love and often miss. It is a classic cardigan with too large lower front pockets. As I am want to do I slipped my hands into the pockets whilst waiting for my dinner to cook.
In the right pocket was a carefully folded piece of blue-grey paper. In faded black ink on it was a short note from Avalon. For those who do not know Avalon was my spouse and some years ago, chose other things over our marriage. I do not say that in a condemning or mean way. It is, however, true.
The note was sweet, kind, and filled with loving promise. It spoke of potential and passion. It used code that was part of our secret language that made communication easy and fun when we wished it to be thus. I can still feel the moments when these notes would appear and the promise they shored and sustained.
So I am sitting here, my meal gone cold. I am longing for something that I will never have again. I am remembering things that are beautiful and good. I am wondering why I have no fellow traveler when I feel the need for one so very deeply. And in all of that, as the tears refuse to remain in the deep well of my romantic’s soul, I read the note again. I remember that once in a while; for a brief time I am worth a little romance and the promise of adventure.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, “That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
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Originally published at aramisthorn.blogspot.com on January 11, 2017.