Up early to write and meditate and begin a cleansing day. So, I did. After a couple of breakfasts, some coffee, and some quiet time with Christine, I took a nap. Aroused by the ending of “Casablanca,” I wrangled myself off the couch and stumbled upstairs. Dressed, I grabbed one of my notebooks and headed for the waterfront. The glorious sunshine cascaded down and warmed the bench I was affixed to. Some friends jogged and walked by. Conversations were hard, for me, without hugs and signs of affection, but discussions ensued. Christine returned from the office, and we walked the entire length of the Bear River Trail. We returned home to lunch and some cribbage. That’s when the relaxation really took hold. I sat on the rear deck of the house with my face to the sky and watched treetops and birds. Time floated by as did my thoughts, and I felt cleansed. I felt safe. Moreover, I was succinct in my decision to be prepared for April 25th and the new grandson. I want to take care of my family. I want to be virus free and healthy to be there for my son when he needs me. There have been times in the last few weeks when my deep dark synapses flare up and remind me of lost days, months, and years. In my recovery, cleansing is a purposeful project and has been twelve years in the making. Since my novels were so cathartic, and my kayak trip was proof I had obtained a new life, the next steps involve living that life. The grandchildren offer the mortar. This sunny, chilly, April 5th has delivered to me exactly what I needed. An entire day of the sun’s energy to brighten my future.