It does look like the titles of my blog posts might have to be taken out of some great artist’s song lyrics. Well so I think, if it keeps me writing…

I was thinking driving today. We grew up together, not family but almost, shared culture, education and, most bonding, sticking points. You with your parents (not physical but that was the least we talked about) who made you grow up, with a mother who needed you more than she wanted you there, with 14 you have no idea of service, so you grew up to serve others, no strings attached, no questions asked, no offence ever taken.

We with our mothers so born into their decade, so enduring whats thrown at them, so never asking if there could be more. And in the end taking the freedom to end what they knew, but never with reflection or humor, instead silence and self-punishment for what, that’s a good question, I could not tell you.

We with our dreams so big and true and twinkling in all colours, at home in something like a health resort, and baby I could tell you these first steps hurt, never meant to realize, never meant to be written off what we thought might be possible, and there for anybody but us alone.

And still we’re here, back again like we’re still thirteen, a little more walked, a little more grown aswell, expanded but selective about who to share this laughter with, to share the real thing, to share what we both have and keep and love.

(“The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.”  ~Elisabeth Foley)

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