Montagnes russes

Petit ruisseau à l'Altaï, en Russie, photo trouvée ici

Then the next minute, I feel better...

I can enjoy the sun light on the top of the mountain, the song of the birds, the nest they're building in the hollow tree trunk...
The hilarious child's remark in the middle of class, the purring of my cat, the dirty jokes of my teenage sons...

The music, the simple pleasure of listening to a favorite CD...

I couldn't listen to music, it's coming back, slowly...

I still can't sing, though... It's so weird, I had been singing in a group or a choir ever since I was ten.
I miss it, but I've lost my voice... The singing doesn't come out my mouth anymore...  
Or it didn't... until this week, I started to teach a new song to my class. Hope I'll be able to finish it...

These constant changes of mood take me on a crazy roller-coaster. 
*Montagnes russes, that's the french for "roller coaster"!
Up. Down.
Up again. Down again.
I'm sometimes tired of the ride.

Our family, relatives and friends are on the roller coaster too, some on the edge, some with us.

But you're not.
You are outside this craziness of my life.

I think of you as being in a quiet peaceful haven...
Loin, très loin des montagnes russes...

I wish I could rejoin you, wherever you stand, whatever you do.

I miss you.