a good word revolution

From our vantage point, one positive word can make all the difference in the world. One positive view possesses the power to transform. It is our forever hope that among the thousands of words we illuminate, one will resonate and shift the vantage point of the receiver to a view of the world that vaporizes for at least a brief moment any and all negative emotion they ever could have visualized. l o V e!

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Sunday, July 26, 2015

the age of m i r a c l e s

I found it interesting that a b e a t i f u l lady's post prior to her teenaged son's funeral stated that she expected a m i r a c l e. That seemed to be the sort of thing one asked for prior to a death, not prior to a funeral. I guessed Mary could have expected the same.

See, I met this charming lady in a charming b o u t i q u e, during a magnificent Toms sale. Or so I thought. We chatted a bit, then realized that on an occasion we stood next to each other during a yoga Saturday at the Y. I remembered her toes. H a p p e n s t a n c e our same aged children were students when Carver commenced all day every day GT school year. Those p e s k y intelligent six graders.

We talked for about an hour on those couches at Alter'd State about: marriage, e d u c a t i o n, divorce, about being single parents, artists we both knew around town, dating, y o g a and shoes, specifically, Toms.

Of course we became fb f r i e n d s right then and there. Where had she been all of my Midland life?

Sometimes people just get into your spirit. It's a s u b t l e thing.

Our same aged children, I digress. Heavy s i g h...

S w e e t n e s s  rushed from her room during one of the last mornings before the end of school and announced, "Something is wrong with a boy!"

"Dear, what are you talking about?"

Her response reminded me to d e c i p h e r it later since it was chock full of... and on Ig, and then on Snapchat, and then someone texted.

WTH was she talking about?

The day continued.  That night I caught the news that Farmer Guy watched. I intentionally NEVER c a u g h t the news. There it was, and there it was. 

She. She and him. He laid in a hospital bed, while his mother raised praying, praising hands at his side.

The she that I never saw off line again. The she that I thought a couple of weeks earlier to ask if she wanted to blog on pictureless, but didn't.

All of the s u d d e n I felt it. I hadn't even known this person existed in my s p i r i t until that very moment. I don't know when it happened, but in the moment I felt that pain, I knew she was there.

I wanted her m i r a c l e for her. 

Even at the funeral I wanted her miracle for her. I didn't attend the funeral, but I did. With a Harry Potter book in hand and a cup a tea, I sat outside of the services across the street at the GMFL football field on the aluminum b l e a c h e r s top row. Yes, I lovingly stalked a funeral. I waited for the miracle.

White butterflies danced over grasses. The clouds made intricate figurines, none that spelled his name.

Nothing much to see here.  Keep it m o v i n g.

Tires screeched, and I saw two ginormous cutie pie dogs, one a chocolate lab puppy, jaunting around all unsupervised all Homeward Bound like. A young couple out for their mid morning outing  stopped their truck on a rescue mission of pets that clearly did not belong to them. P u p s went one way, and so did the couple. P u p s ran into the field, so did the couple. This went on and on and on. They spent the entirety of the service trying to c o r r a l the playful two into the back of their truck bed. Success.

I watched them calling the numbers on the tags, and utilizing the help of two boys passing through to complete the task. I became m e s m e r i z e d by the unfolding drama, and the lengths average people really will go to save the day.

Well NO miracles happened... I really expected to see, h e a r or feel something. I wanted to report to this beautiful grieving mother that a miracle did happen, but I sent her well wishes from aclose. Started for my car and ran into a lady I see every now and then. We chatted it up about k i s m e t.

Later that day while perusing the obituary for this young teen, it noted that he had a strong affection for saving stray animals. Tickled, I s m i l ed a bit and softened. I can say that the miracle, not grandiose restoring sight in nature, did in fact take place - a fifteen year old's miracle. 

Love