Blog 81 Alone (Gary)

Alone (Gary)

            Ah, a walk by myself again.  I pass two ladies and wish them a "Good morning, ladies," and get a very pleasant "Good morning" back.  I appreciate their warm response but as I get a distance past them I can hear their continued talking and wished they weren't here.  I love the feeling of being alone.  It is part of me.  I spent so much time alone as a child that today I love it.  I have done well in other parts of my life to ensure that I never feel alone.

            Today I take in how much I owe to Essie and Alan Nichols.  They were my caretakers when my mother worked and I would stay with them for a week at a time.  They had about four acres, five apple trees, a hammock in the summer, a dog (Skeeter would excitedly run in circles when I came to stay), berry bushes, a small forest, a wood pile to build forts, a place to shoot my BB gun, an awesome swing (you could go so high you could feel the rush in your balls), homemade tapioca pudding and date nut bread, chickens, my toy box, and so on. 

            I realize now that this memory of Essie and Alan's home has been a power source for me, a reference for me to return to again and again as a source of solace and grounding.  I now realize I use the trail on The Hill as a resource for some of those same feelings, or maybe I have always known this.  I am aware today that I need to transfer that power place to something here now, and my little kid is resistant to letting it go.  I am getting closer to doing that.  I tell the child within, “You need to find your home here, little kid.”

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