Fixed

This weekend one of my dearest friends is getting married.  Friends and family will gather from all over the country to celebrate this new chapter in her life, and while Michael was fond of gently teasing her nobody would have been more thrilled than he to see her radiating happiness.  Babies are starting to teeth.  Farmers are harvesting their fields. Friends change jobs, and change them again. My own poor neglected and parched little patch of dirt is producing more tomatoes than I can manage. Every once in a while, one can get a whiff of fall in the air.

Everything is changing, and yet a large part of my life is frozen.  Like a bug trapped in amber, it is beautiful and precious, but without possibility. Time has stopped there. I know that slowly other facets of my life will change too, but I'll always have to wear something with pockets so that I can carry this with me.

This weekend one of my dearest friends is getting married, and I will laugh and dance and no doubt cry a little bit. And tucked away somewhere on my person I will have a golden jewel.  And on Michael's behalf, I am going to tease her just a little bit.