Member-only story
Can I Tell You A Love Story?
Shh, Be Here 13
This is okay. I fell apart, too.
Lots happening, it’s a regular occurrence, feels like. So much good has come, can’t that be my dead mother’s legacy?
I am the Boss Baby demanding attention, kinda like always. It’s okay this time- this time I can do it right. I can see the happy ending. That makes me want to believe that my fumbles were really just preparation. This is how we’ll come together. I’m okay being the phoenix. Here’s the way I see it: out of the four of us siblings, I’m the one reborn.
Let me redeem myself please… at this moment it is me. I would be in error to minimize the journeys of my siblings- or anyone else’s, for that matter.
The myth is that the phoenix rises up from the ash- bright,new life out of gray, dead matter … a beautiful image if ever there was one. But is that how it works? What if we could make that beauty exponential? How would we do that?
I think by recognizing that no rising is entirely one’s own... it is not gray, dead matter that I have come from but a living tragedy common to all humankind. How fortunate am I to experience this? A tinge of embarrassment hits me, but then I think- wait, I can contribute here, I can be of assistance.