the first week of december

hope you have or will read music helps me remember you because i don't want you to miss the words that are meant to remind you that i care about you and i want you to know i love hearing from you even if it's once in a blue moon or less... see, contrary to what most babbling self-indulgent meanderings might seem to suggest, might it's not only about writing to myself here, ya know?... some of you i have not heard from in years, some even longer... please know you are not just always welcome, but i want to know how you are, what you do, and what's happening in your world no matter what is happening... i want you to remember this even though i don't say it all the time :)

some music helps me remember the heart still beating inside of me, the experiences and dreams of love past and hope for more... and this first week of december used to be a time i would devote to my heart, to remembering, to feeling all i can feel from the hope of euphoria to dreams of sharing everything and true love to the losses that will always remain as hope for some form of connection, not returning to the way it was, but at least keeping in touch with the way it is today... love is forever, after all... there is no one i have ever loved who is not very much a part of my heart today and there is always desire to know how past lovers and friends are today... this is the way of honest love... hoping for the best, for happiness and healthiness and a wonderful memory... but however it is, i still care and i still want to know...

so the first week used to be a time of deep emotion... a time of mourning and a time of healing... a time to cry the tears of missing friends and remembering the good times... a time of rejoicing in the ability to remember and the desire to remember well... a time to remember peace of mind and hope for one more smile that says peace of mind is shared... a time for reaching out to say - i love you and hope all is well today...

the first week of december was the annual catharsis... and over the years, especially recent years, working and lack of interest and lack of contact from those who knew me along the way in this life, the old friends who are connective tissue for memory and creativity and growth and life itself... this year, because it was supposed to happen this year (somewhere in writings decades ago i said so), it is happening even without anyone providing connective tissue and yay for the independent child who does it no matter what... the child who goes it alone if that's how it must be (<-- sing along :)


the first week of december i remember the child...