From my Front Porch

Today, I was in a hot place. There is nothing like a summer morning in the desert. The air is just...there's an indefinable quality to it that is unlike any other.

I was sitting on the porch, watching the sun set over the lake, as I have many times, and hope to do many more times. I was sitting by myself, as usual. I can't even tell you how many times when I was a teenager in angst I sat on that porch and waited for [insert boy-of-the-month's name here] to call, or stop by, or for a boy to magically appear and sweep me off my feet...or how many times I sat and picked the dead heads off the petunias in anger or self-pity. (My excuse is that I was a teenager. Please, give me some slack.)

Today I was also waiting. Waiting for something...this time, I wasn't sure what. Now that I'm inside, I'm still not sure. But I had, just a few hours earlier, received life-altering news of the negative sort: one of my best friends - a person who I loved well, who was the kind of person who made a difference to other people - has passed from this earth and is on his journey back to God. I had made a  few phone calls to a few friends, letting them know the news, still numb, still in shock.

It almost felt like I was waiting for a friend to call me, as I sat there, phone in hand, watching the green meld with the orange as the sun melted behind the island. It's one of those moments when you feel sad but you're not going to cry - when you're not quite sure what to feel, but whatever it is you're feeling, it's intense and it's not going to go away.

Life will never be the same. But there's still the porch. And the lake. And the summer nights in the darkness. And the waiting. Maybe soon, I will find what I am looking for, and I won't be waiting any more. Or maybe I'll always be waiting for something. I kind of hope not, as to me that means I will never be satisfied with what I have - never content or even happy to be on the stretch of road that I'm at - always wishing I was further ahead or in a place lagging behind. There's an art to living in the moment that I just haven't mastered yet. But I'll get there. Even if it's the last thing I do.

Cheers, R. I love you. May you finally be granted peace after your long, painful journey.