For the first time in a long time, I had a really good day Friday, on Murphy's Day. Walking the final mile again; the beauty of Back Bay Fens and the Emerald Necklace, walking through the Rose and Victory Gardens, down Commonwealth Ave to the Common, it felt so good.
Then afterwards we went up to Essex for fried seafood and clam cakes at Woodman's with the kids. Murphy was always a passionate eater - he would've been proud. Later that nite when it was just me and my thoughts I thought I'd write a serious and deeply reflective blog but instead I kept watching that Three Amigos clip and laughing.
I do not know yet whether it was that so many monumental events took place last week and that put things into perspective or I've finally taken the turn since losing Murphy. Time will tell.
What I do know is that I found my voice again. There have been fits and starts, moments of profound sadness and then extreme exaltation and all of the silence in between.
Heh. If you look at my dashboard here I have as many drafts, perhaps more, on this blog as I do posts.
A lot of you have asked, 'Why haven't you published your book yet?' and that's a fair question that I'll answer in my next blog.
For now, I'm just deeply grateful. For Malcolm. For Murphy. For the Mission. For Fuzzybutts 3 and 4. For being blessed with our adventures past and future. And for you for having the courage to keep the Faith.
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