Facing the horizon...

There are a lot of lines in life. Some lines you can just dance around; some you can't wait to jump over; others just loom in the distance, unseen, and you can never ever cross them, until you do. It's like the horizon. You just keep walking towards it, knowing it's in front of you, but you never meet it, until that one day.

I've always been intrigued by death. It's this thing that no matter how hard you try to figure it out, or how many ideas you have about it, or how much you fear it, it just doesn't matter- it is what it is and you will never know until it happens. Other things wise elders can clue you in on, but not death. It remains the elusive blessing and curse that it's been for millions of years. One moment you're here, the next- poof. I guess I have a fascination with it, in part, because I've never truly experienced the death of someone close to me. Really close. Or maybe it's just my nature. But this explains my books on serial murder and the paranormal. It's the same reason I read books about psychology. I want to know about death as much as life. But as much as I do think about it, I cannot think about it happening to someone in my life. My brain just won't allow it. But today it had to.

Today death was at my doorstep ready to tear my life apart. But it passed by. A mere fraction of a second came between one world and another unimaginable one. Not because I was in harm's way, but someone else. It's chilling to feel the warmth of death's breath on your cheek. To think how many lives would have forever been changed, but they were spared. I wonder why, as someone who has lost someone wonders why. I hesitate to call it a blessing. Would it not have been a blessing for her to have joined God, as well? Is not everything that God does a blessing? He is the cause of everything, after all, so it wouldn't be right for me to only call the things I want to happen "blessings". But, I know I am thankful, though thankful seems a stupid word. I fully trust that we will be taken care of after we cross that line; it's just something so far out of my cognitive scope in this life, I can't help but be afraid.



When I was at my wit's end, I drove to Jax Beach to get this photo. Although the product turned out to be one that Hallmark might offer on a sympathy card (in other words, crap), the process of taking it was healing. It made me feel better, and brought me back down to this world- an important lesson for any artist.