Behind us, a place we’ll never visit again called yesterday. Last week, last season, last year – whatever it’s label, it’s done. Over. Nothing can be changed, it’s finished.
Beginning and endings are peculiar things – sometimes like a hinged gate swinging in front, opening into a fresh field of openness, freedom, opportunity and uncertainty.
End of a winter.
End of my 16th year writing this column every day.
Will tomorrow come – will it be ripped from today, forever separated by some fine demarcation line or forever rippled by scar tissue proof that the past and future are ripped apart every year at this time when dormancy of winter fades and spring is born again on a tomorrow that always comes?
You hit this one out of the park, Mark! I especially liked the phraseology of this paragraph [Make no mistake, giving doesn’t produce getting. But giving makes us more whole, makes us less hungry for one thing because we’ve developed a better appetite for something else.] and it is so, so true, SF, Lethbridge, AB