The 19th

For whatever cosmic reasons beyond my complete comprehension the Week of the 19th of June is what the Japanese call, "Mono no aware" - both beauty and pain, celebration and sadness...

It's always the week of Father's Day, the anniversary of the Final Mile in Boston, the passing of my boy Murphy, and the birth of Indiana Jones. It's also the week of the summer solstice whose Latin translation roughly means the day the sun stands still.  When there is the least darkness. 

Every year it's a week I'd just like to fast forward through and move on because it can be too much for even me to shoulder.  And I've carried a ton of weight for some time.  But no one gets that option when you allow yourself to love absolutely.  

Five years ago today I gave Murphy rest and five years later I still weep inconsolably when I write about him.  His final days we spent together listening to Garth Brook's song The Dance and he loved it before I even realized the significance of the lyrics.  Paraphrasing them, 'I'm glad I didn't know the way it all would end.  But even if I did, I wouldn't have missed the dance.'  

Just like every light begins with darkness the Week of the 19th is about the lessons from life's inflections.  For me it's been both a beginning and an ending and the promise and the pain of love as well.    

And what a beautiful dance it's been.  Happy 19th!