Lost and Found

If I visit the small lost and found department of my life, I wonder what I would find there. The things that I don’t even recall losing. That high-collared Lanz of Salzburg flannel nightgown, I wish I had it now for this spring dressed as winter in the North Country.
During this pause, this enforced sanctuary, I’m aware of the recent big and small trips I’ve missed. To commemorate my dad’s life in Sarasota; to volunteer at McCurdy School in Espanola. I grieve.
Take time to grieve so many losses. And the loss of certainty.
Of course, we’ve found things too. Vast swaths of uninterrupted time with darlings. Sometimes bickering. Sometimes laughing. Sometimes walking the dog. Sometimes (okay, a lot of time) watching Netflix.
I’ve found that frisson of joy when I hear a friend’s voice on the phone. Definitely, I feel loved.
There is – yes – a sense of finding and losing. And we’ve experienced loss.
One recent twist, I’ve found a forgiving heart for any and all who live with fear, the shadow self.

And a desire to turn to visual art — as ‘not the thing I do, but the place I visit.’ Imperfectly, yes. For we are only human.

My dad would say, ‘what someone thinks of you is none of your business.’

This prompt was inspired by my creative muse Julie Jordan Scott.

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