The Fire

About 8 years ago, I gave Jon a book for his 44th birthday.   I had written in it 44 memories and 44 things I loved about him.   It was his favorite gift.   He opened it, read it and cried.   He really hated crying in front of me, but he had such a soft heart.   He kept the book in the top drawer of his nightstand and would look back at it from time to time.   I wanted to do something similar as a Christmas gift to him this year, but I just couldn’t get in the right place to sit down and write. So, I’m hoping the “better late than never” rule still applies.   Let’s call it, “Everything He Did Right” (in no particular order).   This is for you, Jon. He Gave Real Hugs. -   Jon knew how to hug.   He didn’t just wrap his arms around me and squeeze tightly, there was mental and emotional intent in his action and I could feel it.   It was like his hugs went all the way through me.   I could feel his heart and his spirit.  ...

As usual I was awake from 2:00 -5:00 am last night (this morning?...whatever).  My insomnia usually comes with a narrative and this is what struck me in the wee hours of this morning.  It doesn't really fit with the rest of the writings in this blog, so I wasn't sure what to do with it, but I felt like writing, so here it is.  Consider this the random thought that occurs in the middle of conversation with your good friend.  By now we're close enough that we don't really have to stick to a theme or agenda, right?   My life is not perfect.   But I’m fine with that!   Truth is, I’m so over the “my life is perfect” social media image people are selling.   You see it - the flawless selfies, the 2 1/2 kids poised perfectly on an antique sofa in the middle of a field of poppies, the school lunches with dolphin shaped sandwiches, the new white picket fence homes being built, the Christmas trees that look like they came out of Better Homes ...