Lift

Outside, Bellarmine field has reclaimed its pristine green, and there are fire trees in bloom everywhere.

Today is the first time in three weeks that I've noticed this again.

It is extraordinary that I should find myself laughing again, crisp, authentic laughter, the kind that fills up your lungs and seizes your brain cells, shaking up rooms and setting people's hair on fire, the kind of laughter I am known for, for which I am remembered and loved. There it is, proof, over my wonderful dinner with a good friend last night, which ended with the incredible taste of bibingka souffle exploding on our tongues. I am grateful for the good dreams I dreamt last night - the first I can remember in over three weeks - of crumbling bridges that I was able to overcome with song.