Build the Lighthouse

I received an email today - it packed an incredibly
emotional wallop for me.   I wondered why Mr. Elder
was in my mind about mid-morning, it wasn't
a frightening feeling or anything, so I wasn't
THAT concerned.

And then I saw it - the house that was so much my
home when my own home didn't feel very safe
to be... is moving from the Elder's hands and into
another family's hands tomorrow.

I haven't been there for ten years, yet yesterday
(before I received the email) I found myself looking
at Glen Ridge real estate online and thinking, "I
want to go home!"

It was an odd, empty, lonely feeling - I wasn't sure
of where it came from - and now, strangely, I think
I know.

Its funny how there are moments when you
are in your mid-forties that you suddenly feel
like you are a child all over again.

I was fifteen when I moved out of that neighborhood
and yet, that anchor that sits at 159 Carteret
Street is about as symbolic of a lighthouse throughout
my life as I can imagine.

The words that come to me now are: I suppose
its my turn to build the Lighthouse.