When I was small, the fabric of my life was my family
The warp and weft; my parents providing the strength for others to add to
As I grew up there were other strands added, some making the warp and weft stronger
The parental threads diminished, eventually vanishing. They left the gaps but the pattern of the weaving was still there.
The loves, providing new body to the fabric. A tear where one love ripped himself out of my life, a weakness where another became less important. A hole where one died.
It’s all part of life, gathering the new threads, losing others.
Many people are not a part of the structure of my life, they simply add the extras, the embellishments on top of the structure.
I have lost 2 of those in the last week. Nothing to shred my life’s stability, but diminishing its excitement, maybe leaving a little gap for a chilly breeze to sneak past.