Everything we know, knew has been turned around. Chronic illness took our definitions and buried our sandcastles. Yearnings remain, unrealizable.
The sand at my feet haunts me with memories:
Me, as a child, playing at the beach; Me, with my child, playing at the lake.
My heart beckons me, and I respond, “Yes, yes, I will find new ways to have fun.”
So, now, I dig deep into my soul. Pouring out my pain. Fun can be, is redefined. Laughter bursts. I find joy in watching others play in the sand and water.
Finding joy in others’ happiness is a wonderful perspective. It’s also real–like giving someone the perfect gift and the exalted feeling you get in being part of their glee. Maybe you got some warm sand between your toes for yourself, Rose?
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Thank you. The sand was too far off the paved path, but I still managed to get some sand on the seat of my wheelchair. That counts, I think. 😄
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I find I enjoy ‘views’ more now. Observing, appreciating nature.
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