I know myself so little. I am an orphan. Both parents gone, I grieve before I realize why my eyes well up. Like I did on Fathers Day as I walked the last miles of the route for The Boston Marathon with my son and dog at my side forcing back the tears half the day before my conscious mind made the connection that it was Fathers Day and I missed the old codger'-the most important influence in my frail life short of my mother. The 5th of July is my Mum's birthday. I awoke to the full light of day and began to prepare for the day when a woman arrived in a white car and invited us to breakfast. She took Ehtan and Nice (the dog) while I gathered our supplies for the day in my backpack, gave our World its morning burst of air, donned my hat, and began to follow the written instructions to the home the woman had rented for the week for her visit to Vermont from Minnesota. During this hurried time of waking up, talking with the woman, and preparing for the day, I was curious as to why I was forcing back tears. I was well on my way when I made the connection that it was my mother's birthday -the most important influence on my frail life short of my father.
I know myself so little.
Happy Birthday, Gerta.