What a difference a day makes, a week, especially a couple of years. When Sheldon left me I thought it was the end of the world. Then I realized I had a chance to find something better. When that ended when I said goodbye to Garth I thought I would never be happy again. Sadness was such a part of my life by then I didn't even realize how gray and lifeless everything was. "Tie a knot in the end of your rope and just hang on," I'd heard someone say, so that's what I did, but my fingers were getting tired.
But time goes on, and bit by tiny bit the sunshine crept back into my world.
One day I merged onto the Freeway, driving east. I had the kids and a plate of cookies in the car with me. We were taking them to our old Bishop and his family, a kind of Thank You for all the love and support and friendship they had given us during the time we lived in their ward.
It was late afternoon, and the setting sun shown brightly on the Superstition Mountains, standing purple-blue against a back drop of gray-black billowy clouds building up behind them. I caught my breath in awe, the old familiar feeling in my chest rising up into my throat like a bird on it's wing. I'd felt this same feeling countless times as I walked home from high school, gazing at those mountains, or driving home from ASU when I was in college. There were days then, when the mountains were so beautiful I couldn't help being pulled along the highway, passing our neighborhood without a second glance, drawn to the desert and the mountains like a magnet. This day I had the same feeling, and my face broke out into the biggest grin as I gazed at the Superstitions.
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