Seeking leperchauns

I keep getting the advice from voices both of this world and beyond that I need to write.  I need to document.  I need to publish.

I imagine it is part of the desire to give this horrific experience meaning.  And that is the somewhat impossible quest I'm on.  How can the death of such a giant at the tender age of 37 have meaning?  How can raising two boys without their hero have meaning?  How can the deep stab of loneliness have meaning?  How can one income, pool maintenance, project finishing, life insurance pay out have meaning?  How can widowhood and partial orphancy have meaning?

I can't even begin to answer that but realize that the Holy Grail of my seeking is the answer to my "'why's?".  I long for the answers.  Yet from the very beginning when the doctor said "cancer" before his entire body had joined us in the examination room, I KNEW I WOULD KNOW.  I knew with complete assurance, that I would know why this happened. I would feel the meaning.  I would understand.

Thirteen weeks later, I don't know.  But I do have cliff hangers on my journey that reminded me the answers are out there and I will grasp them sometime.  So for now, I will keep field notes as I hike through this ridiculous trial to help myself document those clues I gather towards the goal of knowing.  The leprechaun's pot at the end of this rainbow is filled with answers and I still have enough hope/naiveté/delusion to believe there is a reward out there for my seeking.