And this is the house where I
I feel alone
Feel alone now
And this is the house where I
Could be unknown
Be alone now
Soon the waves and I found the rolling tide
Soon the waves and I found the rip tide
This is the house where I
I feel alone
Feel alone now
And this…
It was funny for this song to come up after a day at the beach. Sunday I was body surfing the Atlantic waves, jumping and chasing bigger waves, drifting further down the beach, when suddenly I found I couldn't touch down anymore and was further out than I thought (nothing really dangerous my rational mind knew). I decided I should start swimming to shore, but didn't seem to be making any progress. Suddenly the thought came, "Could I be in a rip tide and not know it? in which case I should be swimming parallel to shore...No, that's ridiculous." But still, I had that moment of panic.
This morning I sat out on my back stoop, a ritual I had in the aftermath of Adam's death, for the first time in a long time. The carpet beneath me was wet from last night's rain, and I didn't stay long. On the drive down to Florida I was emotional then realized it was 8/2/17, 18 months since my best boy ended his life. My special boy was moving to Florida to start his new life, and truly I am grateful and excited for this adventure.
Yesterday I spoke at the morning Rotary group about the upcoming Out of the Darkness Walk and why it is important to me. Looking out I saw two fathers of boys that went to school with Adam. It is incredibly difficult for me to do this, but I am not going to let that stop me from shining the light on this topic.
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