March Forth

I will ALWAYS acknowledge this day, albeit in a seriously subdued fashion, for several reasons. About 7 years ago today, I was reading an online article about this big-time pastor/motivational speaker whose name escapes me, who died on March 4th. Though they mourned his death, his followers and fans took it as a sign. Even in death, he was telling them to,

"March Forth."

Of course, two days after reading that article, I learned my brother David had killed himself on March 5th. Thus began the darkest period of my entire life, culminating in the death of my insanely beloved sister Julie four and a half years later. With my parents' deaths sprinkled in between, just to make things interesting.

I swear, sometimes I have no Earthly idea how I got from there to here.

And there are still times, like this morning, when I would prefer to spend the foreseeable future curled in the fetal position. It been rainy and grey lately in Nairobi, and nothing in my closet fits, and my salt-and-pepper roots are showing, and I'm PMS-ing and--look, just don't even ask.

But I must march forth. I WILL march forth. Never underestimate the power of a spa pedicure.