Where did she go?

Where has she been they ask?

Or perhaps they have not noticed that I have not been to this place in about six weeks.

It is interesting how the time flies by as we age.

If you read them all, you would have noticed that I have been around some. A little Live Journaling and a little Fresh Picking but not really a lot of writing about me and life. Have I been avoiding because I am afraid my flowing thoughts might put words on this page I might not want to see? Or did I just not want to talk about it? And what really is "so busy, you know, and all"?

And still I am not saying anything at all yet.

If we made a chart of our life that included everyday we would every live and could put a bright dot on what we believe would make it to the top one hundred weeks in our existence and a dark dot on what we believe would be the toughest/hardest/saddest, this week would have a dark dot.

And I don't say that a lot because I am one of those people who truly believe that we are thrown obstacles to overcome regularly and that is what makes us who we are and who we become. But weeks of recovery and hardship finally led to a spiral of difficulty that was not just an obstacle, but in fact another discovery (light bulb on) that we were not looking for at all. Discoveries and realizations during these obstacles along with a feeling of helplessness that no matter what we can do in the face of this hardship we CANNOT fix or change it and have to sit somewhat on the sideline while we do what we can as we watch something painfully crumble.

So after one too many sleepless nights and anxiety, I finally reside on the couch to lose myself in a movie and go to bed. Vow to do nothing but, once the kids were all down. And so what did I pick? Bridge to Terabithia.
This reminds me of weeks such as these as a child when I would finally want some ending to the tough week when I would pick up the book and read it one more time. Because we cannot always make sense of things and the reasons for tragedies and hardships are never clear in the midst of them. And I know when it nears the end and the tears tremble uncontrollably down my face, I can just say they are for this wonderfully tragic story.

I just don't exactly say which story they are chasing.