Everything is Relative

This phrase has been on  my mind in the last few weeks.  Life has plodded along on this thing called retirement.  Each day is this gift that I unwrap with love and remain present to everything it holds in store for me.  As I recover from the stress of my work life and struggle to fight off the guilt of all this freedom, I find joy in the smallest of things.  Flowers and time with them take on this amazing beauty.  I open myself up to answer the question of what I want to be now.  I love spending time with my northwest family and friends despite the pain of missing my California loves.  I work to make connections in this new home and fight off the pangs of missing "my people."  And then suddenly my world tips on its head.  My internal vision is deadened as I worry about my family in Houston while they endure Hurricane Harvey.  I mourn the beauty that I missed as the Columbia Gorge is lit on fire.  I struggle with my parents' decision to remain during Hurricane Irma.  As I hung up the phone on Monday, I thought once again, this could be the last time I hear my fathers voice.  And just like that, my life and questions about life come to a halt.  All I can think of is the danger that my family and first responders are in.  Everything, every thing is relative.  You go through your day to day life without a thought of dangers that may lurk out there.  And suddenly you are face to face with them.  Again and again and again.  Slowly, ever so slowly you relax back into the normalcy of life.  You don't forget the dangers, but you find a place to keep them so that you can once again function without watching the news or the weather 24/7.  And once again you return to the questions that lie in front of you.  Who are you?  Who do you want to be now that the time to be is yours?  But all the while you keep your family and friends uppermost in your heart and mind.  Everything is relative.