this was a photograph taken last summer and why i grew my hair out …yet i’m dying to cut it all off again…
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning. – T.S. Eliot
This morning I watched a story of one of the men killed in Tucson, who died shielding his wife from the bullets. They were madly in love as 13 year olds then he moved away. They both got married, each had 4 kids, and each lost their spouses around the same time. They reconnected, fell madly in love again, and were married within months. As the murderer (I refuse to use the word ‘gunman’) shot into the crowd, he pushed her down and covered her as the bullets came showering over them.
I have been fortunate to experience many things in my life, to love and be loved. And while my heart aches, it’s a story like this that truly shows the kind of love out there. It’s Congresswoman Gifford’s husband telling his wife that if she hears him, to reach out and play with his wedding ring, and the moment that happened when she not only reached for his hand, but reached up for his neck so he would hug and hold her.
"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. " ~Ralph Waldo Emerson