That brings to mind the other journey I'm on...the journey of grieving...of figuring out what my "new" life is supposed to be...of figuring out my purpose. As I board the plane here in Denver, I know my destination is Los Angeles. I know that my sister will be there to meet us (assuming she remembers to pick us up and doesn't fall asleep waiting...) and that we will enjoy a weekend of relative warmth. That makes traveling seem so simple. I board a plane, and a couple hours later I land at my destination.
Of course, the grieving journey isn't nearly as simple. I wake up each morning, but I don't know what the day will bring. Will I feel fulfilled at work? Will the dogs make me smile, or will they drive me crazy? Will something little like a dirty dish in the sink bring me to tears, or will it motivate me to deep clean the house? There is no flight plan, no timeline, no way to know. And so for now, I will board my plane and hope for sunnier skies, not only for this weekend but also in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.
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