In the words of Spoon…

Everything Hits At Once

And are they ever right about that.

In this case, and for a change, a considerable portion of events have been good. Really good. One might even say good without precedent. Others have been breathtaking and heartbreaking, and so it all falls together in the way that it will.

My mother, who I love very much indeed, has just lost her longtime lover and companion. He was as ornery a cuss as ever lived. He loved to argue, and most of all, to get a rise out of people. When I first met him, I knew already about his penchant for starting verbal tussles. I resisted his every salvo, ignored his every prodding, until at last he looked me square in the eye and called me Cupcake.

There. Was. Rage.

Ultimately, I decided this wasn’t the worst thing to have someone call you, and I learned to accept his pet name with better grace. He still teasingly called me that, the last time we spoke. He and I were never close, but I know he cared very much for my mother, and even more than that he took care of her, which is something that virtually no one else in all of her life has done. She has always been the breadwinner, the bacon bringer. John loved my mother, at her prickly, vain, harsh, and passionate worst, and in all the days they were together, she felt loved; well and truly, for the first and only time in all her life. I am very sorry indeed that she has lost him.

Other people, close and dear to me, are going through transitions of similar import. They are profound in their mystery, wondrous in the ambient power they exert. Those are not my tales to tell. But they work on me, in their way.

And then my own tumbling; this weekend quite literally. Still waiting to hear if my tailbone is just bruised, or if I managed to crack it. This all entwined with discovery and concordance, bliss and laughing-to-the-point-of-pain.

Amidst it all, I try to keep my eyes open to these wonders; my senses alive to the magic of this moment in time, which is even now, racing away.