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Saturday, January 10, 2026

Morning while wintering...

 




Our neighbor an older man who lives a mile or so up the road came to our door

yesterday . He & his beautiful wife would walk by our home almost

every day in the warmer months.

We would stop to chat always and promise to pray for one another.

He held in his hand his phone, not knowing what to say at first.

Finally he showed us the obituary for his wife.

She had passed suddenly.

He was on his way to her wake.

He wanted us to know .

In that moment I knew that everything about these

social platforms was wrong.

The coldness ...staring into peoples lives, quietly judging.

No real empathy...just scrolling along...

In my mudroom we all hugged, the man, my husband and I

and our grandson as we prayed for his wife and him.

It was intimate, real and filled with the light of

humanity.

##

I want life to be like this always.

Moving made me believe that it would be the thing that

would connect me to my people.

It isn't.

It never was.

##

It is a cheap version of a real thing that can never be replaced.


In January I think deep and dream deeper.

My overnight dreams ( I have had all my life) get more

detailed and the meaning is raw.

Last night I dreamt that I went into a cafe filled with women waiting

for a teaching crafty thing. I was wearing winter white and carried

a structured white bamboo bag with a white leather handle .

On my wrist were 3 beaded bracelets- translucent pinks and lavenders.

I told the others they were made by my grandchildren.

The candle light was lovely in the well appointed shop

as I was asked what I would like to drink.

Tea,Earl Gray with cream and honey, thank you.

Then I woke up.



My mind is responding to the influx of disappointments in people

whom I shared a close bond with. It needs to remind me that it may be

better to look forward to begin fostering new relationships.

I need this piece of the puzzle healed to have the life I wish for, have prayed

for for years.

Wintering is like this...

The moments carved in time that resonate and the time available to

process them. Real moments. Real people.

Not the ghosts of them.


xoxo

Raven


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