The Day Of

It is hard to go to sleep one night, and know, without a doubt, that by the time you wake up in the morning the person who brought you into this world will have passed on. You try to stave off sleep, flipping through TV channels, rustling in the down comforter of a hotel room - the red numbers on the clock changes from 3:51 to 3:52. To accept death is to accept life. And to accept this is to let go and move on, while remembering, and going to sleep - a wonderful, peaceful sleep.

I woke up groggy and disoriented. I met my cousin and aunt and we sat in the parking lot for ten minutes before deciphering a plan. I was out of it. We left Lexington for Danville, and after eating a hearty lunch, I crept into the church, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone. I slowly made my way down the hall and stopped within hearing distance of the gym. Several kids and adult leaders were laughing and joking around with one another. I smiled. I checked email, made a few phone calls, and then suddenly stopped.

It was one of those moments were time didn't seem to exist. My mind recounted the past 24 hour's events - think John Madden play-by-play recap of a football game. The events sunk in, I blinked, then rustled to the car.

I went to the sanctuary of the Central Kentucky Wildlife Refuge, 20 minutes outside of town. The ice hadn't melted from the trees, so I was anxious to beat the final flickers of the sun's last rays.

The dripping of the forest and the almost silent chirping of the chickadees mixed together, singing rebirth. Spring is coming, and with it new things.

I decided to drop by a friend's house, his partner having passed on just a while back, thinking it would be good time with an old hippie who spent his glory days in Colorado.

After driving another 10 minutes away from Danville, I noticed that power was still out at his farm. We greeted one another with big smiles and some chicken feed.

We fed the 70 chickens, horses, cats, and dogs - farm chores. I am allergic to horses and cats, but no matter, we paced to his work shed where we were graced with warm wood stove.

We chatted for what seemed a while, and I couldn't really tell you too much of what we talked about. I just know that there was heartfelt laughter, stories told, teary eyes, and loved ones remembered.

A good end to a good day.