a new dawn

Grace Slick said that at Woodstock, with the Airplane. “It’s a new dawn.” Right before she said her kind of famous “Good morning people.” I myself wasn’t at Woodstock, kind of blew it skipping that, but my younger sister went. I know what Grace said, though, because I’ve seen the movie a bunch and listened to the soundtrack even more.

Anyway, the “new dawn” idea is most relevant for me today, waking up as I did in a new town, in a “guest” room, more angels at work in my life, like the young couple who moved my meager collection of furniture to the storage yesterday, the storage a garage gifted to me by yet another angel, bartered for a few pieces of art (like the room). So here I am, maybe four miles from where I’ve been the past 11 plus years, and in a couple of hours I’ll head back to that place I called home so long to gather up my son and lots of his remaining things and hope they all fit in the car, which as I write this in a patio sun room is (my car) jammed already with the stuff of my life I’ll bring along to the next place and space – and, yes, grace – in my life. Which I will talk about tomorrow.

Get the kid, move him into his new home, hit the Trader Joe’s I love on the way back for some frozen meatballs and a couple of yellow bell peppers, return here (and I have a temporary key) and quietly – my hostess works long hours from home and will be just right over there from the stove and microwave – make something to eat and settle in. She did get my computer up and running last night – how this post is here – and besides all that wonder and continued generosity, I for the next three weeks have a cat as a roommate too. So cool.

Beginning the more of what just might be the next remarkable and amazing chapter of this life I still have this morning – I’m still here. Yesterday was hard, lots of sadness. Today there’ll be some of that too. I’m hoping for a slice of easy does it tomorrow, when I will schedule nothing for the first time in a long time.

Good morning, people.