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If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads. ~ Anatole France
It was splendid weekend. Mother Nature put on her best sunny face and we took each moment as it came, moving this way and that as the mood took us.
But then, out of the blue, a phone call. The ones you don’t want to get. Unexpected. You get a hint where it’s going but then it’s not what ~ or rather who ~ you expect.
And the world stops momentarily and then keeps turning and your mood is best described as distracted.
Sadly, I think we’ve all been there, or will be there at some stage in our lives.
I dislike using the words tragic and unexpected when it comes to death. It’s the journalist in me. Death is tragic and unexpected.
Even in times of immense suffering, and we’ve been there, too, the final moment is still always a shock, unexpected, tragic for those left behind.
At these times, too, I admire the resilience of children. A couple of stories told to me recently confirms this. I’m starting to think children are wired that way. To hear, to accept and to move on. Particularly in those times when the impact does not directly touch on their everyday life. It’s a blessing to hope that they are not burdened by the same heavy heart as we.
I realize that this is not the fun fare usually found on these pages but a leave of absence may be in order for a day or two.
I’m going to take the opportunity, too, to step back and reboot. Much like I did with our home this past weekend. A swish and a sweep and ready to sparkle once more.
And remember to hug your loved ones, tell people you care and expect the unexpected.
