bike was stolen.
I can't seem to settle my heart. I can't calm down. I can't seem to quit kicking things; fantasizing both about explaining to the bike thief the emotional earthquake he's thrown me into and standing on his throat.
To say the very least, I'm struggling with resentment - the kind that is so pure one drop out of the little glass vile I keep around my neck would burn a hole through an oak tree.
But also, something beautiful is happening. I posted on all my social medias about my Fuji folder and the rush of sympathy was instant. And wonderful. My posts were shared and reshared and commented on and then reshared again and again by friends and friends of friends. On all platforms. There are eyes everywhere in my city looking for my Fuji. And I can't help but feel sugary in my browbeaten bones. So thank you. Thank you, universe. Thank you, Fort Wayne. Thank you, West Central.
But one man has destroyed me with his kind words.
knew your dad and he was mature beyond his years. He was taught to be
nice and respectful to everybody. He always greeted me warmly with a
smile. His deep voice and kind eyes were very inviting to everyone who
talked to him. I'm very glad to have
been a friend of his. He had a super mom and dad, I believe that is
where he got his personality and character traits from. I'm sure that
he would tell you that what's in your heart far outweighs what that bike
represents to you. Dayne wouldn't want you to harbor any resentment.
Let it go and free yourself of the bondage of resentment. You need look
no further than his friends to have mementos of your dad. There are
plenty of stories of him to go around.
And now, I'm looking for a new bike.