Victory in Death

I had this great essay in my head about stones fitting into small spaces.  But then, my thoughts have been derailed with the killing of Osama Bin Laden.  This may be justice.  This may be the way things ought to be.  And heck, an eye for a thousand eyes, right?  Yet, I have a feeling of melancholy swelling in my throat.  Well, that isn't the proper word.  I guess it is karma.
  Well, heck, here is the story of the stones; simplified as I am now too tired to pour out literary details.  You have a bowl of pebbles and a bowl of large river stones.  If you pour the pebbles into the crevasse, you will fill up the crevasse.  But, then, what about the river stones?  They won't fit.  However, if you put the stones carefully in the crevasse and then pour the pebbles in, the smaller pebbles will filter down around the stones. 
  Okay something like that.  Like I said, I lost my enlightenment when the news interrupted my Sunday night ritual of watching Desperate Housewives and Brothers and Sisters, organizing my calendar, erasing as many e-mails as possible out of my inbox, and painting my toe nails lavendar.  The point is to first deal with the big things.  Get them done, check them off your list, get them out of your head.  Then fill in the spaces with the little things.  For if you spend your time filling up with details, the big things will not fit.  Or maybe I meant to notice the spaces in between. 
   Well, gee, I think I screwed that up and should probably not post this.  But, in the end, writing it down gets it out of my head.  Yes, I smile and am enjoying where I am in life right now.  I exercise every other day and get in my studio as much as any mother-artist could.  Yes, I had the most fabulous birthday on the twenty second.  But, I cried all morning.  I cried a little this morning too.  There is a pit in my stomach that is waiting for the shoe to drop.  Like if my life gets too fabulous, the Big C will come in and fill up my spaces.  Yes, I think I rather forgo the pebbles for a little while longer. 
   Thank you for holding my hand, my friend.  Thank you for making me laugh until I nearly peed my pants.  And thank you for telling me it is going to all be okay when it is not.  I may make it look easy, but....  That is the art in living, I guess.
    I know there is a victory in a death tonight.  Yet, it is a death.  And maybe that is the pit that swells in my throat.  Or it could just be the Tykerb making me nauseous again.  Who knows.