Just as the lows strike you down, the rebound comes on it's heels and lifts you back up. But you still feel the bruises. You breathe in and out just as before. Your heart beats. You get up and put your feet to the floor. And even though you don't feel it, you've taken a tiny step forward on your journey. Growth hurts sometimes. Making the decision to move forward after the rough spots takes a great deal of courage. Speaking your truth to those around you can be extremely difficult because you just can't handle one more bit of drama and you especially don't want to hurt anyone. So you do your best, you get some sleep, and you pour another cup of coffee in the morning. One step, two steps, three…eventually it'll be automatic. Eventually it gets better.

I'd like to stop this roller coaster and get off now. It's making me want to throw up. I had a lovely day in Aspen yesterday. Then dinner out at a nice restaurant. I don't know WHAT I was thinking. I mean, this was the restaurant Mr. Virgo and I got married in! I should have said something when my friend suggested it. But I thought I could handle it. Yeah…not no much. They sat me where I could see the table we sat at during the reception. I could barely eat. I made it to the car before I cried. I was going to stay over at another friend's house but when I couldn't reach her, I just went back to Denver. Sometimes retreat is the best form of self care.

Humans need it in order to survive. In order to thrive, we need lots of it. But what happens when we're alone? Whether by choice or by chance, we who live alone are deprived of a wonderful part of life when we are not touched. I had such a busy day yesterday and right smack dab in the middle of it I decided to go get a massage. OMGosh! It was divine. I think it should be a national mandate that everyone receives a massage once a week. The world would be a happier place.

We pull into the cemetery. Three cars. We aren't together, but we are, you know? The red Honda pulls to the left and heads to the back west side. I turn right to the front east. The silver SUV drives past me and heads a couple rows to the north, Christmas carols escaping thinly in the dusky air. "I'll Be Home for Christmas". Sigh. Not this year. Not any year.

'Tis the season. Just about everyone has the warm fuzzies at this time of year. Carols being played everywhere you go bring back memories of past holidays. Cards, cookies, gifts…the very air sparkles with hope and love. Families travel to share the most precious gift…time…with their loved ones.

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Holidays! It doesn't matter which holiday you are celebrating this time of year, there's lots of love and light flowing around. I would love to see these same feelings of brotherly love, of mutual respect, of loving kindness spread rampant every day of the year, wouldn't you?

Mr. Virgo always worked the holidays. All of them. You never knew when, or where, your Thanksgiving Dinner or Christmas was going to be year to year. We didn't get to see things like fireworks together or kiss at the stroke of midnight. Such is the nature of the food service industry. And, since I am the "World's Most Flexible Person", this did not bother me. As long as I knew Mr. Virgo was going to be there, I'd celebrate…period. Didn't matter, because every day was a holiday with that man.

Sitting in Starbucks yesterday morning, I had the opportunity to people-watch for awhile. I saw something disturbing. Horrifying, really. An entire family of eight came in, placed their orders, pushed a couple of tables together so they could sit together and share this early December Saturday morning bonding over coffee. Then they sat down…and immediately got out their smart phones. They disconnected…checked out…each retreating into their own worlds. It was a devastating reminder of the deterioration of interpersonal connection we experience daily anymore. I was just as guilty…sitting there writing this post as my youngest grandchild improved her vocabulary with a game on her iPod. I have begun to have electronic free visits with my grandkids. Insisting the distracting little buggers stay in our pockets. And we talk. To each other. With each other. We practice making eye contact. We connect.

I met Hubby #2 when I was working at a rehabilitation hospital in Denver in 1977. I was the x-ray tech and he was a physical therapist. We didn't have our first date till a year later and married a year after that. He was a brave young man to take on a woman with a young child while he was entering medical school. Those were truly the best years of our youth. We were so poor but we lived on love and generic macaroni and cheese. We were idyllic and full of hope for the future. We rode our bikes everywhere and took advantage of every free activity we could find. We were young. We were happy. Then, I don't know…life happened. He finished medical school and residency, joined a practice in another town, we put our noses to the grindstone and didn't look up in time to see the truck that hit us. Not literally, of course. But our marriage fell apart in pieces on the floor. It took us about five years to break and many more to heal.

Actually, the light was chasing me as I flew across the country yesterday morning. I was up at 4:00 local, sitting aboard a comfortable 737 by 6:00. Way too early to be decent company. I chatted briefly with my seat mate. Her husband died six days after Mr. Virgo. We compared notes for a bit. Lovely woman, very brave. Once we prepared to taxi, I apologized and told her it was nothing personal but I needed to put in my earplugs to block out the noise from the engines. I snuggled down in my furry wrap and eased into blissful slumber. I always worry that I will snore and snort and look decidedly unladylike on my very cosmopolitan journey. That would ruin the whole jet-setter persona I adopt as I travel.

I love to fly! Love, love, love it! It sure isn't what it used to be though. As with everything else it seems, prices go up and service comes down. Gone are the days of spacious seating and tasty meals. With the price of gas down, you might hope for lower ticket prices but that's not going to happen. I drove six hours each way to save $300 on my flight. And…I bought meals, gas, and lodging that far exceeded my savings. However, I do get to spend the night at both ends of my trip with my good friends, Cindy and Randy. Cindy lived in the flat below me when I lived in England. It is such a treat to spend time with them.