For a little over a year now, I’ve averaged a funeral per month for someone with whom I was close. I had hoped that 2015 would be different, but, of course not.  The saying of goodbye has never been a strong suit to me as I tend to be overattached to folk that I love and have been friends with for quite a long time. The latest was a brilliant woman who was so filled with joy and interest in all of the arts that I was in awe of her. She had many talents and was unafraid to use them wherever she could. Her life was about friends and the students in the school system that was her career most of her life. Dead at 53. There appears to be no one at present ready to even begin to fill her shoes.  This little corner of the mudball planet we call Earth is lessened by her absence and the emptiness of a pair of shoes I’m not sure that another can fill.

Further Musings

I’ve not written in quite some little while. It seemed as if all the desire had been flushed from me as leaves down a storm drain after a torrential downpour. Not that life got suddenly better or that any dream had come true, but simply to be devoid of any expressive bent whatsoever. A broken relationship restored and joyfully so. Still the same uncertainty over the primary relationship in my life as if I picked petals from a flower, “she loves me, she loves me not”. I’ve found new friends this past 6 months or so, along with a handful that I brought along from before. It is freeing to be able to say, “I love you” to someone and not have to worry that they think you are attempting to initiate a romantic liason. It is uplifting to have those who are interested in  how *I* am doing. It feels good to have intimate platonic relationships.

Maybe I did have the KISA complex that I was accused of at a point in the past. I certainly am no knight in any sort of armor, least of which being shining. I love, indiscriminately, without regard to gender or age. This is who I am, what I do. There is no artifice or ulterior motive. It hurts me that important people in my life cant accept that for what it is, but attempt to make something ugly of it.

Then there is the fact that I am unashamedly Christian. It is not my calling to save anyone, nor to condemn them. My role is simply to love and to tell. And yes, I have more concern for  your soul than I do for your body. I said on Twitter recently “I’d rather see your reading list”. That pretty much sums it up for me.

There is one consolation, I am content with me and my spirituality. I am confident that love will live on whether I do or not and I hope that is to be my legacy. He loved.