Clint is Watching

12/18/09

Tonight I have a sense of peace that I haven’t known for many months. I can’t explain it, and maybe I shouldn’t over-think it and just let it happen. I’ve felt it since I did yoga late this afternoon.

The weather has been awful all day - cold, hard rain and wind - the perfect day to stay in my gown and stay in bed with a book or movie. But I dressed and went out to lunch with old friends. I’ve been working on a cashmere shawl all afternoon, and my eyes are tired, but they aren’t filled with tears.

The dogs and I have been cozy in the den, they napping and me knitting and listening to Susan Boyle. Her story is one of hope and dreams come true, and it penetrated the emotional force field I have been building for days, my armor against the holiday bullshit.

I almost feel light. It’s eerie. Is it the calm before another storm? Of course it is. I’d be more than a fool to think this can last, but for now I’ll let it roll over me. It’s a bubble bath, a massage, a bowl of warm soup, a featherbed.

Clint is looking at me from my desktop with that enigmatic almost-smile, those dark shades, his chest bare, that big stogie between his fingers. He’s making me smile, and though now I’m smiling through tears, I am smiling nonetheless.