My favorite thing about living in Maine is the attitude we collectively share in having survived yet another winter. This year’s was the mildest of my lifetime and yet I still find myself worse for ware. This serves as a reminder to me that despite my lack of acceptance with regard to the weather; Mother Nature is not my enemy.
She does what she does in a completely natural way. Folks like me cannot say the same.
Easter is a time of renewal, resurrection, and restoration. That doesn’t come easy for us.
It’s like resilience: weary, beaten, tattered and torn, eventually, if we do not die, we rise.
The story dictates that three days later, that beautiful hippie who taught us to love one another rose. Three months later, I am waiting for a dear friend of mine to rise.
There are diseases that people fight silently and alone. Addiction, PTSD and depression are perhaps the most insidious of these. We know the fight cannot be overcome alone, but shame and fear hold us captive.
I haven’t been able to locate the artist but I heard this song lyric on Husson’s radio station this morning:
“If we’re gonna get better we gotta get together.”
To my dear friend: I love you even when I cannot reach you. I’m still here, as are hundreds of others who love you. Rise. We can’t give from an empty cup. Let us fill yours.