TBD Title

Its probably a bad thing to find yourself speechless while also trying to write a blog post. The idea of clicking on the “Add” link and then starting at a white screen for minutes that feel like days is a bit paradoxical.  Or to sound less academic: dumb.  Instead, the normal process is to have some semblance of a plan, then power up the computer, the website, the add link, and the writing.

But not this time.  This time the writing began on the top of a non-active volcano but disappeared before I made it back to a keyboard.  I sat on a bench with a perfect view of Portland.  A young man sat nearby, playing on a  piano, while dozens of over park users wandered around.  It was a perfect summer evening with the sun still high enough in the sky to promise all of us two or three more hours of light.

I sat there, thinking about my grandfather who had passed away earlier that morning.  Pa was 93, and died after a good trip to his UK origins with some members of the family.  He was in the hospital for the past few days and passed in the middle of the night.  I don’t know more to the story yet.

Once upon a time I had six grandparents, due to marriages.  Now, I have two.  Once upon a time my father and my step-father had parents living in this world.  Now, they don’t.

Words and emotions swirled around me all week as I attempted to process Pa’s illness and then passing, which brought up thoughts about other relationships lost due to death, distance, or the decisions of others.  So perhaps its perfect that I have spent most of the time “writing” this post just staring at the white screen, as white is the combination of all colors, all emotions, all thoughts, rather than their absence.





Nana and Pa gave me a claddagh ring years ago, as a symbol of their heritage and my inclusion in the family (they are my step-grandparents).  With both now gone, I sat on a bench watching flickers of sunlight catch in the heart.  And I now sit at home, spinning the ring on my finger each time that words fall short.  They loved me.  I may not know how to tell the whole story, especially the ending, but I do know that part well.  They loved me.Let Go

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