Book of D: Remembering Ronnie

 Happy belated birthday in heaven, Ronnie. I sit here wondering why you have occupied my dreams so much these past few days, and I cannot help but feel so full of sorrow that you are no longer with us on this earthly plane. Your journey through ecotones is still quite perplexing. Needless to say, I am so sorry you died. Moreover, I am sorry you had to die the way you did. Unfortunately, things between you and me ended on a negative note all those years ago. I wish I had a time machine or could access the Einstein-Rosen Bridge to go back in time and fix things between us; to make the breakup more gentle and mindful. The counselor in me posits that we could have remained friends had a more positive intervention occurred. I guess it's something we'll never know. My heart at that time was still healing from having lost-in-love way too many times, so ending our relationship did not come easy for me, Ronnie. You were someone I loved; I still love you in my own way. I remember when I first saw you and how my heart skipped a beat. After P---i, I wasn't sure I could ever be enamored by anyone else. I thought my days of physical and emotional attraction toward another person were over. You were the clouds parting in my dark unsettling life. You gave me hope again for love to shine. You were so beautiful. You were funny. You were brilliant. You taught me so many things. My love of soccer was solidified by your wonderful tutelage of the beautiful game. You loved me unconditionally there for a while. Despite that love having been short lived and sadly not as reliable as I would have liked, I knew you loved me in your own way. You gave me hope to love again. Even though our though our time together was short and ended in a somewhat tumultuous manner, it taught me many things. I didn't leave you for someone else; I left you so we could each find what we needed in life and love. I found my "someone," and I like to think you did, too. I'll never forget your fabulous smile, laugh, comedic nature, and beguiling personality. Continue to rest in peace, my dearest Ronnie. ❤

I hope your birthday was celebrated by your family and that they have found healing. 

  

Book of D: Home Sweet, Temporary Home

Growing up, no one explains how nothing is permanent. For instance, a home. You grow up, you move into a dwelling: a house, an apartment . . . but nothing prepares you for the end when you have to move out because the time allotted for you to live there has arrived. 

One day, you will have to move out of that dwelling. The mere action of buying a place to call home never really makes it yours. It is silly and banal to think otherwise. Sure, you might be buying, and you might be acquiring equity, but the home will still someday belong to someone else. The equity you built into that home will not save you from death. Death is imminent. Whether it is your own death or that of a loved one, it changes everything and everyone – forever. The home you lived in for years will one day belong to someone else; they will get to live in it until their story comes to an end, too. You get no special privileges because you are you. Death is certain. Permanence is evasive.