I haven’t been blogging because life has been pretty relentlessly difficult, physically and emotionally, and I don’t want to write only of pain and grief. There have been vile racist incidents in our little town, and the world is on fire with hatred and sorrow. Although we all suffer sometimes and it can help to empathize and know you’re not alone, it can also be tiresome to get stuck in that groove.

My close friends know that when I’m close to or feeling despair, I tend to post funny things- always searching for that stray bit of dopamine or serotonin that might be hiding somewhere in my body. At the very least, finding a moment’s pleasure in making others smile or laugh, distracting my self from the overwhelming grief.

But today, I was awakened by the realization that Leap Year Day will mark what should be our 40th anniversary, and I was again engulfed in agony and then fury- angry that we no longer exist on the same plane and that there are no guarantees that we ever will again. That he wasn’t here yesterday when our granddaughter stopped by to sing her latest song creations and see the beautiful, funny, and kind person that she is. That my body still looks for him each morning and waits for him every evening, and has cried every single day when it again hits me that I can’t wake up from this awful dream.

After about an hour of raging grief, I knew I should get moving and shift the mood, so in the still pre-dawn hour, I did a couple of stretches and jumped out of bed, determined to be present, and attend to the tropical plants in the cold sunroom.

Stepping carefully through the dark to them, I apologized for my mood, promising to give them their usual compliments a bit later in the day. Adjusting the heater and opening the drapes, I noticed one star in the dark, dark sky. In nightgown and slippers, I decided to step out into the freezing night to look without screens, and saw that the one star had dozens of friends across the sky: little shards of light, twinkling their hearts out, with nary a thought for wee human concerns.

And once again, my solace came from Nature: I am always stunned back into Beauty, perspective, humility, and gratitude, trite as those terms have become.

So another day has come, and all there is to do is to wish you a Happy Solstice Day.