Post is late today. And short. But heartfelt in adverse proportion.

Real life has me handcuffed, brain-time and time-time. More boxes packed. The realization that nothing more will fit into the car, and there’s plenty more to go. I’m seeing multi-trip days in my future. And many-hours getting the box contents into ordered. I’ve begun throwing away stuff I once thought I couldn’t live without. I will throw out much more before I’m through.

I am obliged to go the mini-storage route, for the things I may still need. I see the pried-open wreckage of some of these places (not the one I’v chosen), the scatted flotsam of people’s lives. Very depressing, somehow.

And the words. They’re like those storage rooms. Crowded with stuff I haven’t had time to sort out or throw away. Waiting for me to come by and claim them again. Locked against intruders until I can find the space and the time for what needs doing.

A touch chapter, this. The first parts came to me with surprising ease. And so has this most difficult part–yet in saying farewell to a beloved character, I want to do the emotions justice. Which would mean clearing a space in that mental storage room…space and time that are not mine right now.

So the word waits. It does not wait in that sympathetic inner environment in which deeper emotions and  richer expression find their home. In the meantime, I must set the thoughts in a warm, sheltered place inside and get to them when I can find a place to stand with them a while. To meet them on their home turf. And hope that they look kindly upon me when time comes to be together at last.