There is a place that I know
Where I need more often to go
A place of amazing comfort and rest
Where a smile is never rare
And Your love is as free as the air
And I lack for nothing
When I can see the love in Your eyes
And know that it's all for me
I fear nothing at all
When I'm safe in the arms of my Father
And if I ever fall I take comfort in knowing
That You are there
I find myself caught in wonder and sometimes absent of being present to the moment. There are a lot of things that make me think about Mike. The other evening I drove up Highway 9 to a burger joint with family and friends. Mike lived just a mile past. I drove that road weekly in after summer seasons. Winding my way home, listening to Patty Griffin, after hours spent fully accepted by my dear friend. I found no judgments, no cynical talk, no expectations, no arrogance, no doubt, just acceptance and love. I knew when I was with Mike that I was seen truer and more real. When I am in conversations and people are talking about the way something should be and dialoguing about the "what ifs," I pause in thought, and wish I was with Mike. Those kind of yoyo conversations of up and down did not exist. We existed. The presence of friendship for a brief spell was more powerful than any weightless rambling about the who knows and who cares. I acknowledge that I am tired, grieving, and feel the weight of friendlessness as I enter the after summer seasons. Mike was a sailor. I was a cowboy. In another lifetime we would have met in port, and he would have rode out to pasture, and I would have sailed into the horizon. But we had this lifetime, so we sat side by side and shared stories of the wild hills of Africa, and the brilliant sunsets from the Pacific. I look forward to a place "where a smile is never rare." Not today, but someday. Today I am just looking for Mike in the little bits of life.
