they say that we were “an island unto ourselves”

if that means we knew how to love, how to laugh, recognized the significance of candy necklaces left on rear view mirrors, and dreamed of snow on Christmas Eve in Frankfurt- and wishes made it so- then yes, how precious is our island. oh, yes, we threw fistfuls of sand at one another too, and our eyes stung from tears. but what mattered far outweighed those moments.

we may not know how to fix anything of what we are going through. but I know this- our love, though damaged, trampled and at times almost unrecognizable – is real and anchors us in this tempestuous world. We are the Trio of Spirits. The Four Pelicans. The Two Sides of the Same Coin. We are true.


for we finally opened the island to others- to family and to friends whom we thought truly loved us. to love them was a given. living in our island for so long, love is as natural as breathing, smiling, hoping…in all things possible.


but others beyond our island…did not know what to do with the new shores. some changed their mind, rejected it, and hoped -even prayed- it would go away. others initially welcomed it, but then missing what they knew, insisted on their own rules- too harsh and petty to give credence in our mystical world. and then there was another- one who said he never lied. but he lied about his lies, and he lied about everything. the air was so oppressive that the joy could easily be snuffed out. But no. We don’t let it. We don’t dare.

so we learn of our strength. we learn of things yet unseen, but will be so. we learn that what we had was a gift that not many enjoyed. it was a small island, but it was amazing.

The Four Pelicans

they say that we are “an island unto ourselves.” And so we are. And one day we will come back to ourselves and to each other -forever changed but intact. And we will dance along the bonfires in joy, the wood smoke curling in tendrils and tickling our noses,  and let the waves buoy our damaged but healing souls. Our Island is no longer innocent, but it is still beautiful, and it is ours.


Thank God for Our Island. For we know what is real. What is important. What lasts. We shared it. But we did not give it away. They chose not to recognize this gift we have, so it all ours to treasure . And the angels sing with us as we cry out in happiness, to the stars who have guided us home.


It is under that star-strewn sky, by the bonfire and the waves, where I will meet you again, My Loves. With all my love.