heaven = gorges

It's early in the morning. My favorite time of day, no matter what the season. Today is the first day of summer; the longest day of the year. Always a great day to enjoy sunlight and the sound of birds--especially early with a cup of coffee, and late with a glass of wine and a book. In a couple of hours, I'll be on my way to take my oldest to his college orientation, and my youngest will join me in a cabin at a beautiful state park where we will hike, swim and collect bugs for his summer homework. I'm so looking forward to the time we will spend together: it will soften any pangs from dropping his brother off, and will make amazing--and important--memories for both of us.

There's another special reason for the distraction, and the memories to come. Yesterday, a dear friend's father died. She, and two of her sisters, were with him. I knew the news was coming, but it still was impossible to brace myself for the onslaught of emotions when I heard the news. My heart went immediately to her and her family--where it had been for days, actually, but the funny thing is, I actually felt my heart leave and go to them, breaking in pieces along the way. Moments later it was back, heavy with the weight of grief and pain shared among loved ones. The memory of singing to my father with my sister just before he died fluttered through my mind, and I realized that Dad was surely welcoming my dear friend's Pop with the story, along with a warm man-hug, to the Heaven that I am sure all fathers share.

I cannot feel my friend's pain, but I so acutely understand. She was there, unexpectedly, at my father's wake, and for all these years I've known that I might not have made it through as well without her. I hope and pray that I can be as strong for her.

Bug collecting, hiking, and memory making with my son; this is how I will garner strength, and with all my heart, I will support her because she is my friend.