Take This One Instead

The grasslands of the plateau have changed in hue, my morning drive to work, darker than it was only just a month ago. If my timing is just right, I am fortunate enough to witness earth's beauty under a blanket of mist being wake-up-warmed by the rising sun. There is a rhythm to it all that is noticed to those obstinately willing to observe.

My mood is melancholic and again, I find my spirit rendered silent by the lack of kindness one human being is capable of showing to another. At about 3:30 AM this morning, my dad's trailer was stolen from Rivendell. Paul has just finished with the police, and I am on my second cup of coffee, though the sun has yet to greet me for the day. I tell myself to accept the loss with a quiet dignity. Every ounce of me wants to run down the road, after the vehicle that drove away with dad's trailer attached, and tell them to wait...

"Wait! We have another trailer. It is twenty years newer and in much better condition. Take the new one. Please leave my dad's."

I have so few things that belonged to him. Please leave my dad's. He wanted that here, at Rivendell, to help us build.

Paying attention comes at a cost for I am aware that this loss is like a wrecking ball to the should-be-inaccessible pocket of grief within, holding the hard feelings of losing a parent who made you feel safe in this world.

"Keep moving, Sugar," he would say. "Keep moving."

I move.

I am doing the laundry and trying not to let cynicism devour me. I remind myself that good people sometimes do bad things. I remind myself that they thought they were stealing an old trailer and weren't aware that they were taking something of my father's.

Please bring the trailer back. There is nothing that I can buy that could ever replace that trailer. Please bring it back.