I Saw It All From My Window Seat
3 April 2005
11:34 P.M.

Sitting quietly in my window seat, I watch as the first rays of dawn begin to shine over the horizon. The sky is alive with light hues of yellow and orange and pink and it is such a beautiful and moving sight. It has been quite a while since I have seen a good sunrise. All to often lately, I feel as if the sun is always setting, signaling and end to something I have been hanging on to. It seems as if I lose a small piece of myself each day. But as each day ends, my heart feels lighter. The pain is leaving me slowly; I can feel the change. Unfortunately, the blinding sadness remains. One day, that too shall leave me. I wonder how I will feel then? If the emptiness caused by the loss of pain is any indication, I shall have to diligently pursue new activities to occupy and activate my mind when that day arrives. The sky is illuminated now with the risen sun. The myriad of colours is fascinating. I only wish there were someone I could share it with, this morning. Although, perhaps, looking towards the heavens now, there is someone. I can feel His presence in my heart, too, settling in the empty spaces the pain left behind. He's not filling even half of them. Perhaps if I opened my heart more fully to Him, He could. The sun is high in the sky now, the day warm. From my window seat, I see life as it passes me by. Young lovers walk over the stream, stopping halfway across the bridge to admire the ducklings and the turtles. Small children run and laugh, their mothers and fathers smiling after them. Elderly couples walk slowly, hands entwined, enjoying the first real day of spring. The sun is low in the west, now. From my window seat, I see it still. My window seat opens the world to me, when I am too frightened to leave my mind, when I seek solitude and peace. The sky has darkened and the dark shades of orange and pink and red are beautiful. What has left me today, I wonder? I look out and I see an elderly woman and a young girl sitting side by side amoung the flowers. The young girl picks a daisy and hands it to her grandmother and as the grandmother smiles, I can see a tear enter her eye. I close my own. The memory is one long suppressed of my grandmother and I when I was a very young child. Oh, but daisies were her favourite. I used to gather a bouquet for her every time I saw them. I open my eyes and the scene that was never truly there has faded. The sun has now set, and the moon risen. It casts a silvery glow over the brook and the bridge and the flowers. In the soft moonlight, I see a young lady traveling alone, tears falling from her cheeks. A young man approaches her, all dressed in white, and wraps his arms around her. As her tears quiet, he smiles. Tears form in my eyes as I realize that I am the young lady and He is the young man. The tears fall from my cheeks as I realize that I lost the last of the pain today, and He took its place. I saw it all from my window seat.