The mornings still have a chill in them, and it is just enough of a chill that I can see a steam rising off the pool of coffee in my mug. Perhaps it is because I am so tired that the steam transforms in my mind’s eye to a mist rising off of a lake in the early morning hours carrying that feeling of serene beauty. The water in this lake is unpolluted rolling and swirling softy in a rich dark brown colour that blends with patches of a warmer brown where the light breaks through to touch the surface. It isn’t a far stretch for my dream kissed mind to see a tiny boat pitching and rolling on coffee that curls in that slightly arched form and breaks against the barrier of my mug. Much like Alice in the bottle, I see me in the tiny boat travelling through life’s never ending adventures, a journey filled with the inevitable facts of life.

So where are we this morning as we sit sipping and dreaming? Hmmm…

Some coffee sippers reading this might recall me discussing the loss of a beloved family pet a few short weeks ago. Well, since then a few things have happened. My silver boxer began having cluster seizures a week after we lost Willow, the weight of just one loss had our boat taking on water but now we were fully sinking. Luckily we have been able to stop his seizures with medication, but he is not himself and I fear that the quality of life question is not too far off. His seizures are the result of a tumour.

A few days before the seizures we had noted how sad he seemed to be without his best friend and we understood the burden of that ourselves. We made arrangements for a puppy to come home in a few days-time as a mechanism for bailing out some of the water in our boat and to honour her memory by loving in the way she would want us too.

So in the way that death, illness, and new life can bring on a deep tiredness I am truly trapped in the throes of it, and with oars shaped like coffee spoons I am rowing for the shore.

As the waves in the boat gently lull me into an exhausted sleep I will let you steer the boat for a while as you whisper about the rise and fall of the tides in your world…

By Shari Marshall – 2017