It's a Miracle

We interrupt this blog for... Happiness! It's a miracle! I woke up happy this morning. Boy, has it been a long time since that happened! And what's more, I feel like the most fortunate person in the world. 

It's as if I picked curtain number 3 and it was drawn aside to reveal all the love I receive and how bright it shines. And I have so many people to share that love with, even those who have already gone to spirit. 

My treasure trove of good fortune includes my two babies, Josi and Michael. They are far away, in miles, but they never stray far from my heart. Raising them was a wonderful adventure. And I am so very pleased with how they have grown to adulthood.

Then thoere's my grandson, Aiden. I was privileged to help take care of him from the time he was a newborn until he went to Nevada to live with his dad at about age 6. Now he's grown up and is in the Marines. I couldn't love him more.

And our adopted daughter, Lyra. I was 54 when we adopted her. All my friends thought I was out of my mind, but that child was a little bit of heaven who came to earth. She was full of love and laughter and mischief. And she taught us what true courage is. She battled cancer from age 5 until, a couple of months past her 9th birthday, her poor little body just couldn't hold her spirit anymore and she slipped away to go on back Home. I miss her, but I know she's safe and more than happy where she is. And I know that, sometime, we'll be reunited. I feel her spirit, now and then, wrapping around me like a warm shawl.

Lyra's daddy and I parted ways when she was about 3. It was an amicable divorce. I would have never said anything negative about him in front of Lyra, and he was the same way about me. Otherwise, we would have torn her apart because she loved her daddy and she loved me. Why make her choose? So, when she was admitted to the hospital with a brain tumor, we both, naturally, stayed with her as much as possible. Whatever our differences, we were both focused on Lyra. Nothing else mattered. So, over the weeks and months and years of her illness, we bonded over our love and concern for her. We became good friends again. I'm very grateful for his friendship. And I am also grateful to his wife. She's a kind person, extremely intelligent, and a spiritual person. She is also generous and giving. She makes the most fantastic date nut bread in existence and always sends one to me at Christmas. She is the perfect fit for him.

I'm lucky enough to have two sisters -- one by birth and the other through friendship. My big sis lives in an adjacent state and is surrounded by her kids and their children. My big sis and I are growing closer. She's too far away to visit much, but we keep in touch by phone and on the internet.

My other sister is my best friend. We met in 1966 and have been bestest friends ever since. I can hardly believe she's managed to put up with me all these years. 

And I have a lot of on-line friends, some of whom I have known since 1996. It doesn't matter that we've never met face to face. We care about each other. Awhile back one of our group died unexpectedly. I had never met her in person or even spoken to her on the phone, but we were all devastated. She was our friend, and we loved her.

Love is the key to everything. And I receive and have so many opportunities to give so much of it. I've felt alone since I became a paraplegic, but I've been fooling myself. The isolation I've been experiencing is, in truth, a phantom. The very air is filled with love. I'm surrounded by it.

So, like the Beatles sang, All you need is love; love is all you need.

Namaste. Love from me to you.