and don't apologize for all the tears you've cried. you've been way too strong now, for all your life.

i guess we're all one phone call from our knees.

snow dusts ajax peak. white caps reaching for blue bird skies. proof that the crisp coolness of the recent night air, is a sign of things to come. winter is on its way. this is the real deal.

driving home last night, from the farm, in the darkest dark of a clouded sky. i arrived to civilization and a voicemail from my sister. and an email from sean. chris has passed away. it was an accident. thought you should know. knew you would understand. i hate that i do.

"you can't have any expectations for your time together," sean said as we walked through familiar philly streets. "it is what it is. you make the best with what you have and you love them the best you can because you don't have any idea how much time you have together."

you know this. you live this reality on a daily basis. it's a reality with everyone that passes into your life. but it is intensified when mental illness is involved. you have no idea if this conversation will be your last. there are no guarantees. no certainties other than everything is temporary. so embrace what is before you. but for most of us, we go about our lives with the false luxury of believing we have all the time in the world. taking all those little details for granted. and we waste our time worrying about wardrobes and cars and endless hours at jobs we hate. what would we do differently if we knew these were our last moments together? what would we do differently if we we not fearful of looking foolish in the eyes of social constructs?

in the past few years it has been cemented into my brain how amazingly short life is, in the grand scheme of things. a single eyelash held in a very large palm. and i don't have time to waste pretending anymore. what you see is what you get. and if at times i seem messy and frazzled it is probably no more so than the next person. it's just that my stuff is right there on the surface waiting to be dealt with. waiting to be sorted out. i wear my heart on my sleeve. i'm sorry if that scares you. imagine how i feel. be grateful i don't keep secrets.

every morning i wake to the smallest thought weighing on the back of my mind. on good days i can push past it. acknowledge its existence, but also my powerlessness to change the situation. deep breath. on with the day. -- but other times it grips and pulls and drags me deep into dark places. the powerlessness becomes malignant and suffocating. a shackle instead of a release. every phone call could be "the one." the one that informs me of my sisters death. her passing. would she have ended her life? or would it have been an accident? a mistake with her meds? the voices? i think about my life with her and what a horrible sister i have been. how difficult her life must be and how often i take mine for granted. the tiny freedoms i enjoy that she will never know. it breaks my heart. and its too hard. and i am exhausted.

hillary called me the other day. she apologized. she said she was sorry she couldn't be the kind of sister i needed. that i deserved. and she apologized for monopolizing all of my father's affections. "you see audge, he spends all his time worrying about me and taking care of me and spending his money on all the things i need, he just doesn't have anything left for you. and i'm so sorry there isn't time to worry about you. but you don't need it. you're perfect. and i love you."

how do you respond to that? how do you speak when your heart has leapt out of your chest? out of you throat. and despite your best efforts to break its fall, has smashed to bits at your feet below. how do you have anything but love for someone who holds you in such high regard? who looks at you with such compassion and admiration? how can you possibly explain those evil thoughts that creep into your brain? wishing your life were different. begging, pleading for some sense of normalcy. for some lightening of the weight. to feel less burdened. less burdensome.

today could very well be the day i receive that dreaded phone call. but it could also be the day i fall in love, or get my dream job, or find twenty dollars in my jeans pocket. it is what it is. make the best of it.

p.s. so far, today has been the day i woke early and ran the valley floor. drank coffee in the sunshine, dipping pumpkin biscotti. and received a text from my sister exclaiming how proud she is of me.
today is a good day.