March 3, 2019

A Perfect Day


There was a day some years ago when everything felt perfect.  The perfect blue sky was a friendly, perfect dome over a beautiful, perfect hilltop.  There were thousands of perfectly puffed white dandelion-heads, just begging to be perfectly picked, the seeds longing to blow in the perfect, northeasterly breeze and fly up to join the perfect, gentle, fluffy clouds that blew lazily and perfectly across the land.  And my tiny, precious, beyond perfect niece held my imperfect, scarred hand as we walked across that perfect world.  And the perfect dandelion puffs were the perfect height for her pudgy, perfect fists to grab, so we walked perfectly along, making perfect, fanciful wishes as we blew through the field.

And I know.  I know it wasn't actually perfect, but it was pretty damn close.  And tonight, I find myself longing for that perfect, simple day.




Thank you for coming. I hope you get something out of this. I hope you learn about yourself. I hope you get help if you need it or give it if you can.