On Sodom Pond

Postcards from rural Vermont


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IMG_20140420_151036284It happened somewhere on Route 4 near Rutland, with a fiddle on the stereo and a blue sky above. Headed for home and Easter dinner. I didn’t plan on it or try. But it happened. And I let it.

Suddenly, I knew I had to leave something behind, something I wouldn’t need for the journey ahead. For the life opening up before me. It was as simple as dropping a stone in a river. Not tortured or dramatic, like I thought forgiveness should be. I didn’t try to make it happen. It’s like a voice said, You can go back in now and remember. And I did. The good things before the bad. The hope before the loss. And it was completed. And I got my heart back.

Rejoice! I said to each passing car.

Blessings on you!

And when I got to my destination, I lay on my brother’s deck in the sun with my shoes off while the adults talked and the kids hunted eggs. And then we ate, and ate some more. Damn good coffee was made and bocce was played. And the kids kept laughing. A cardinal sang and I pointed it out in the trees and the kids turned their faced up, hopeful and full of wonder.

My brother showed me magic tricks and his new guitar. My sister-in-law fell in love with her neighbor’s Shorkie. And nothing–nothing–could be wrong. Any day now, everything could change and skies darken, the world turn upside down. But today the sun rose and I saw it and felt its glow.

Today I went home.

I brought nothing and I was fed.IMG_20140420_152644276



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