Mark's room is empty and quiet. I pick up my native flute and go up and down the scale. It makes a soft and peaceful sound. The man who made it describes it as a prayerful flute. I agree, so I play a prayerful little tune for my son who is away at Safehaven.
Today is the last day of November. Have a look back at the two posts called T-minus at the end of July and the beginning of August. Some 90 days have passed and Mark is still with us. These days his responses are much more than a tiny laugh. Now he looks right at you and smiles. He's back to school one day a week and in the new year he'll be up to two days. He's able to hold his head up. He's not sleeping as much and once again he seems to enjoy getting out. Go Marky.
Um... I lost my thought. I was sitting here in the quiet, blowing a prayer on my Kiowa, thinking back to how far Mark has come. Then Keith heard the music and popped his head in the door. A couple of minutes later Linda and then Lynn. This Kiowa flute calls people. Now the guitar is out, and the bamboo sax, and who can concentrate any more?
Writing a blog is a strange thing. Its a little private, a little public, and definitely in the moment. At this moment I'm missing Marky, but I'm enjoying a little freedom. I think I'll go back to praying with my Kiowa.