Sometimes it is too hard to stay connected.

Sometimes it is just too hard to connect to Facebook or other parts of the Web. 

I would love to open the site and not see how many angels have been born. 

I would love to open to not see how many kids have been admitted for unexpected reasons. 

I would love to not learn some new and "special" side effect.  

I would love to be able to reach out and help a mother who stumbled  across an old Valentine.  Such a small item can mean a day of heartache. 

I would love to not read that a child is about to find a new set of wings.  I would love to have words or pictures or signs I could send to the mother and family. Something that would make a difference. b 

It is not an option for me.  I am either connected and life is hard and discouraging and terribly sad or I am blind to the hardship and suffering.  I walk away sometimes for a little bit but then we all need some shelter out of the meteor shower.   

Then I seem to be pulled back.  While I have the luxury of not being in the heat of battle, the battle and struggles are not far away.   It is like a haunting.  You catch glimpses out of the corner of your eye.  Just a momentary visit by a demon. Something that reminds you to be wary. 

I guess I will plunge back into Cancer World. 
Even though Seattle Children's does not like me.  Here is the most recent love note. 


I need to review with you both visiting standards and visiting protocols.  I understand you’ve done some remarkable work supporting both families and patients.  That said we need to insure that there are never any occasions where families or patients are visited without the needed approvals.  Simply said there can be no cold calling or spontaneous surprise visits to hospital families and patients.  I’d like the chance to review this with you and look forward to that opportunity



Just love these people sometimes. 

The Meaning of Everything.

Lent is starting.

Yesterday was my Father's Birthday.

The Rain is coming down.  

The planets are appearing to be very close to each other in the Morning Sky.

Trump is winning.

Hillary is not.

Plants are up too soon.

I don't know, I feel like I am on the verge.

Verge of Change.

Verge of Adventure.

Not sure what it really is but it is.  

Things have been over the horizon for so long. Hanging out there waiting to happen.  No real ability to grab on to something or to create any tractions to move one way or another.  There are moments of clarity and then they slip over the side of the mountain and disappear.  No matter what direction I head, the maze does not seem to open up in a meaningful way.  

My dear friend Alison told me once to "trust the motion".  One step, one rock, one inch.  Head in a direction and see where it takes you.  Trust in the motion.  Keep inching forward.  Know it is possible to plunge into a deep crevasse but sometimes there is something magical at the bottom.  

Cancer World put a stop to life as I knew it.  It kept me in suspended animation for an inordinate period.  In order to bring any sort of sense to live you have to step off the moving walkway.  Step away from what had been your trajectory.   

I have to keep moving forward and trust in the motion....