My sweatshirt is still damp from the nice morning run in the mist with a friend. The cats are crunching in the next room. The trash truck grinds its Tuesday's treasures.
I love the fresh start of a new year. The intensity of Christmas releases during the 25th and the week following and what follows is hope of a new start, hope of resurrection.
An allergist doctor believes that Cody's problems are all allergy related instead of c.f. One tablet of Singulair has silenced his cough, just in time for the beginning of fourth grade choir tomorrow. We will begin immunotherapy in two weeks for dust and tree pollen allergens. There's hope that behavorial issues will be aided by this treatment too. We were all hugs and smiles together before school.
Dad is home, recuperating, vowing to take care of himself better, allowing my brother to unroll the hay bales for the cattle. Outside Dad's window, Bo the white lab can still be spotted from time to time jumping the big round haybales in the nearby lot. At times, the cats join him. Visitor's kids join Bo too. It has become a festivity in itself, a moment in motion, in air, Michael Jordan for the common folk and critters. Maybe one day Dad will be jumping with his new heart.
During our morning outing today, my friend and I decided that letting go of friendships is one of the hardest things. On the trail in the cool air with my brain actually working, I likened this process as being like two people on different islands with different inhabitants. I don't want to be on a different island than ________ but this person and I are, due to circumstances, and we are surrounded with different natives. It's almost mournful to see them again and to realize the necessary separation. Yet there's hope in where one is and who is around.
So, I'm hopeful for 2005 right now. Hopeful that God will work in our time and space and infiltrate what seems hopeless and hard. I pray that for you too. Happy new year!