Monday, June 23, 2014

965

Today my sink is filled with dishes from a meal shared with friends - some suddenly made, some slowly tiptoeing around my life for a while. At some time during dinner, I listened to stories of a man who ran with a bear for a few seconds in his life. Outside the moon shone and inside, our little group of uncertain, unlikely hunter-gatherers listened to tales in a circle around an imaginary fire. The primitive mood of storytelling was palpable.

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Papa was discharged today and none of us were prepared for it. He is still so weak but we are on the right path of treatment, it seems. But ...