Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Yesterday whilst toiling in the garden, I was contemplating twos. Not just the obvious: twins, couples, Noah's animals, or the fact that two is the first even number.
No, I was thinking more along the lines of...
...my two wee dogs, that love me unconditionally;
...the two and a half years I've lived on this mountain;
...the same period of time I've been achingly homesick for Scotland;
...that it has been two years since I became a widow.
On one hand it's gone so fast, I can barely comprehend the speed of it; on the other, I can relive the defining moments in brutal, crystal-clear detail as if it were, in fact, just yesterday.
Time does heal wounds. Eventually. It helps that I'm strong, mostly capable, and incongruously, in the midst of chaos theory I believe in an underlying method to the madness.
The one immutable thing I pondered as I toiled in the garden, is that when all is said and done, two is the first number that is divisible. And that will always leave just one...