Nights of haunting winds howled as fingers tapped keyboards, scrutinizing, imagining, reliving the words dancing across the screen. Versions and versions edited, saved and shared. Although the stories are not my own, familiarity with the words and phrases born of hours of intimacy have seeped into my being and I now wear them.
A month slipped by without a single post to my blog. Was there nothing - no reflection nor retelling - worthy of documenting? February slipped by. It was rich. It was full. And I was busy.
I am putting the finishing touches on my dad's book about his educational career - Restless and Inattentive and we are so close. I joked with him that the book I write will be about an aging over-achiever father who is desperate to leave footprints in the snow. He already has.
And somehow I suspect that after his projects are wrapped and bound, I will look back the many years of this journey of writing that I have shared with my dad, and be ever-grateful for this very privilege and the time together. I am already.
And so I bid February a fond farewell and welcome March with open arms. I will not miss blustery cold and howling winds as we move on. I'm ready.
