Heavenletters

This darling writer sings the song we all long to sing but can't quite get the words or tune in our mind. The first line of the love filled song goes: "Letting go is of the paramount importance."

Trying with all my might feel like letting go of the steering wheel. Who wants to do that sort of thing?

I say to my self: "God is telling me to consider Adaire an ordinary passing object and I reply with an open heart and tightly clenched fist." I suppose I would let her go, and will let her go some time or other, but right now the spirit's willing but the flesh is weak.

Please don't get the idea that this process has a lot of pain. Remembering a beautiful painting that I no longer can look at prompts me to look at a picture of the painting. On every mirror I have a picture of my darling that reminds me not of what I lost but what I had for so many years. I listen to cassette tapes of us singing and the sound of her silvery sweet tones echoing in my mind often bring tears.

I suppose the rise from "entrenched ideas" that crowd my consciousness with fun things to remember forces me to admit that she's free now.

I'm glad that she's free but she left footprints all over my mind that keep me in a joyful, pensive walk at this stage in my life that refrains ne from saying "let go now of those footprints and memories." "He gently whispers: "I know the depth of your heartache and what you think you have lost."

I hollar back: "You Big Devine Wind Bag of LOVE, get REAL. and walk a mile in my shoes." I can't get over HIS quiet answer: "Son, who do you think is walking in them now?" I blink away a tear or two and start to remember who I really am. Thanks to Gloria and her HeavenLetters.

George blinking less and less