41

Hello world.

Today is my birthday, and I'm realizing how I've missed blogging, but really have not been able to do it much.

I have been writing my play this week, however, and that is a good thing.

Of course I have to do it in spurts, as I keep getting stuck or frustrated and want to play a simple video game instead because it has quick rewards for my fast problem solving, and sometimes I just need to feel accomplishment, even for something small.

Our friend Helen Taylor passed away last night and that makes me sad.

She wanted to live. She was so bright and loving. I will miss her, but I will imagine her smiling with tears in her eyes in Heaven. Why tears in her eyes? Well, that's the deep, deep kinda smile. The one that is so desperately important that the tears make it holy (as Cassia would say).

We walked to the Dougherty's through the cold snow tonight to deliver a special card Donovan designed. The stars were stunning! There was Orion, so close you could touch it! Donovan led the way with his new LED flashlight from Christmas.

A house where Death has just visited is a house full up with grief and tasks and well wishers and odd sayings like "Well Helen likes... liked that" or "She has... had your last picture up." And then tears and suddenly wishing no one would say the obvious for about 10 minutes.

41 years ago my mom pushed me out into the world. I don't think I can say I'm young anymore, except in a relative situation. That's OK. Bring on the maturity, please. I'd like to learn to do the dishes without sighing like I'm being deprived of my freedom. I'd like to not eat when I'm stressed, but only when I'm hungry. I'd like to exercise enough so that I'm no longer stiff. But I know I will never grow up inside when it comes to my imagination and my glee, and I'm grateful for that.

Dave took me to see AVATAR 3D today in Calgary. Surprisingly it was a day off, but that's because the students are still away until Sunday. It was very indulgent-feeling and fun to walk into a movie theatre in broad daylight. The movie was powerful, captivating, troubling, long, and beautiful. Dave and I improved the story for them on the drive home. We thought the war in the end was less noble --smaller than the tree of spirits being uprooted and wreaking havoc. --That is so like us. So like us in the old days before kids when we would use long drives to pour out our hearts.

So I'm grateful for so many things: my beautiful family, my friendship with Helen, the snow under the bright blue sky, and the stars in the inky blue sky.

Not bad for 41.

41.

Forty, plus one.

...that's something.

I think Helen was 82.