"Getting older's not been on my plans"

  I have this picture as the background on my phone. It is of white boy giving his famous smirk. Mirrored, aviator glasses looking so chic. And I think, "What is it about this guy that makes him so special?"   I immediately think of his hands...so strong and calloused, a true testament to his strong and dedicated work ethic. I think of his eyes...so blue they blend in with the clear summer sky. I think of his smile...so genuine you can't replicate it. I think of his outlook on life...so mended it is pure.   In a sense, I think of many things when I look at a picture of him or even think of him. He is truly a good person. And he is mine. I don't consider myself to be a defensive or territorial person, by nature, but I know one thing...this man is mine. Granted, he alone belongs to God, but I get him next, and I have only felt that about one other being and that was my dog.   Often, J and I will talk about belonging to each other...a sense of personal entitlement...

  I've heard it said that in a true tapestry there is a single thread that stands out above all others. The idea of the tapestry has always been used in a metaphor about life. The interweaving of friends, lovers, and family members that come and go in our life establish a legacy of beauty seemingly messy and unfocused less we stand back and see the grander picture.   I remember when I was at the Vatican, in Rome. I walked as quietly as I could down the Gallery of Tapestries admiring the vibrancy of single threads woven together to create scenes from the life of Christ. I walked as closely as I could noticing single threads that stood out to the naked eye. Golds, reds, royal purples...there was always one that caught my eye. It started at the bottom, the beginning, and wove itself to the very top almost aimlessly yet carefully through the entire piece.   He started on February 8, 1981; a thread of vibrant red began. A hue of crimson alw...