I know it’s your birthday today, you’d have been 71. We all miss you more that we can even express. I was going to come back to be there, wish you a happy birthday and work on making the world a better place. This is the note I’d leave there, if I could’ve been there. That we all love and miss you, you were the greatest Dad anyone ever could’ve had. You brightened the lives of everyone you ever met, made parts of Kansas City better for your presence, and will always be loved and missed.
I asked for hope for myself. But it’s not about me, down as I am at the moment. Hope can be shared online, too, there are plenty of people who can’t even get out of their homes, much less to places filled (or now not so much) filled with magical seeming fairy houses. We can all do this, and give to each other.
Last September I didn’t want to feel down, battling yet another joint tear in my hip, but mainly wanting to not be down about the anniversary of my Dad’s death (September 10th). His birthday followed shortly after. It will again this year. My well is rather dry of hope right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try to give it….I just have to try virtually. And I know I’m not alone, like the many who turned out anonymously to create new things in the Firefly Forest.
Kindness and hope matter. Will you help spread messages of hope to the world? If you’re here, you’re already helping! If you’ve seen The Gnomist, you know the essence. Hope. Kindness. Healing. Spread some magic in the world tomorrow. Let those who are suffering, however much or however small, share in some hope and joy, help me create #MessagesOfHope.
You know you want to. If this diehard cynic can be writing and doing these things, I know you kind people out there can, too.
I was all set to fly back and walk the trail for my September build hope tradition! I was back to two hours of walking a day! Back to crutches. They don’t have paved wooded trails here, and I caught a tree root and set myself back. By quite a bit. Finally heading for scans.
If you’re reading this, please send some hope my way. I’ve lost all sense of it here after this accident. Can’t sleep through the pain, else I’d likely not be writing this.