Cleaning house

Spent about 30 mins while I had coffe and cleaned out my email files. I tend to stuff email in various files with the purpose of getting back to them later and rarely do.

In one file I found some old email and IM exchanges between my dear deceased friend Dan. The one I wrote about a month or so ago... the one who died young of colon cancer... the one I dedicated my book to. I read over them and felt embraced by his presence. In this life, we tend to meet people and make them friends for a while. Then, something happens and they are out of your life. How ever-changing our minutes are, as we live day to day!

I read Dan's warm words. Our funny banter. Our nicknames for each other. His teasing me and my teasing him. I read our sorrow at life's curve balls and how they stung when we were hit by a stray one. I smiled at his encouragement of my writing and how he thought I was one of the most talented and brightest women he had ever met. I agreed again with my advice to him regarding what women want and that I believed he would one day conquer the devastation of his divorce.

Time eases pain. As I read, I didn't cry or feel as if couldn't breathe because I couldn't talk to him in the flesh. I smiled at the memories and the gift of a friendship that was accepting and so encouraging in this age of thoughtlessness and cruelty.

When I hold my book in my hand, I think of how I would never have begun writing prose, if he hadn't of encouraged me. Writing prose led me to writing poetry... Dan's subtle touch started the process that has taken me to such satisfying and rewarding heights that at times I can't see the universe from above.

I miss Dan daily. Nothing can change that. But I have the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the pink of azaleas and the aura of peaceful sleep to remind me in many ways that Dan will always be a part of my life with his subtle touch.