Butterflies and Hurricanes

Today I've come to the conclusion that I need to stop worrying about the future.  Every choice I make is a gamble.  Instead of worrying how something will end, because (at least for me) it inevitably will do so...It's time to start enjoying the little gifts life sends my way.  For the past two months, (following my latest tragedy), all emotions had ceased to exist.  I fell into a numb and indifferent state of mind.  I'm certainly not complaining.  After all, when feelings become absent, a sense of security develops.  It's as if your mind has crawled into a dark cave where no one is allowed entry.  It doesn't take long to realize this has happened.  It wasn't a conscious decision to create this colorless world of solitude.  

Then I am faced with a choice.  Do I live in this safe grey world, following my endless routine of work, sleep, work, sleep?  Or do I want to allow butterflies and hurricanes back into my veins?  Is life worth living not feeling anything?  I came home last week and I told my roommate Bill, "It feels like I'm just waiting to die."  When I said that out loud I did feel something.  Fast forward a few days and I've allowed a little happiness to visit me.  Inevitably it will come to an end but so do our lives.  If we never did anything because it would someday end there would be no point to living at all.  So come on butterflies, I'll let you flutter in my heart until you have someone else that needs you.  And even if the hurricanes come as well, there's always safety in the eye of the storm.

Memories

I've been thinking a lot about the memories that linger in your mind forever.  Moments that may have changed the path of your life or perhaps, just a small act of kindness when you least expected it.  Maybe it was just a random event that was humorous and became an easy story to retell at parties.  There are many of these moments that have remained elaborately detailed in my mind.  

For instance, I'll never forget "swimming" in one of those blue plastic kiddie pools at my grandparents' house in Elkton, Michigan.  My grandfather would sit on a folding chair in the backyard and "supervise" me pretending to be an otter (or any other sea creature I was channeling that day).  I'm not sure exactly how old I was, probably five or six.  Young enough to think my grandfather was joking when he said "If you spit that on me, I'm dumping all the water out of that pool!"  Turns out, he was serious.  I remember watching sadly from the window, with little tears streaming down my face, as he dragged the empty pool to the shed.  That's the last time I tested my grandfather's word.