sparkignitefire

There is some catching up to do for me. I can tell a story in person….walk the room, people laugh, be myself–in public. The writing a story, whole other ball of wax.

So, I start by inviting you to take this ride with me.

The story starts about four months ago, though I will start with Tuesday-Jan 10th at 9pm.

I thought it was curious that someone “liked” one of my comments on FB that was from more than a month ago. The sleuth in me wanted to know who it was and why? It led me to my friend David’s page and there was a flurry of posts saying “get better”…”pull through”. The whisper in my head said “it’s done”. Honestly not even sure what that meant. The mother in me said, “he’s injured himself again” (David was in a harsh snowboarding accident in 2011). More sleuthing.

Someone had set up a caring bridge site….again I thought you set one of those for people to get better. Went there and read he had shot himself. I knew he was not coming back to us.

This was the same moment in 1995 when my mom called me in London and told me there was an “accident”. She did not have to say another word. My dad had shot himself. This was the 1st time that whisper got loud and demanded to be heard.

Last night I had the privilege and honor of talking with the 2nd person in my life to share my love affair of the mountains and 30 hour mountain bike rides with, David being the 1st. He was walking that fine line due to a traumatic brain injury recently. He got to hear the story of David. Then I said, I cannot lose you. What he said next cemented my love for that whisper in my head. “How did you know?” What did I know? I knew he was hovering in a dark place. David gave me a gift in his ride to the other side, the gift of boldness.

So you ask, what does this have to do with 92, me-the reader and your barely passable ability to tell a story in writing?

Let me tell you a story.

Love you