We went through the town where Lynda is supposed to live. We spent 2 hours there, and at one point I was going door to door, knocking and asking if anyone knew her. No-one seemed to know a thing about her. The police were no help at all, in fact, they were rude. I wish I could have seen her. I miss her so much.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Artist Robyn Tipton
About Me
- Robynsart
- Wilsonville, OR, United States
- Just one person, finding my way in life... seeking my true north and an authentic life
I dream of fireflies
Artist Robyn Tipton
Where you can find me
My Blog List
Followers
Learn a Bit about Me
Read an Interview by my soul sister!
http://michiganhemp.blogspot.com/2010/08/feature-1-robyn-lindsey.html
Custom Search
Posts
1 comments:
This is turning into a detective story -- but we'll assume this story will have a happy ending. Wherever Lynda is -- I'm sure she misses you, too, Robyn. It's fear, or whatever you want to call it. When we are at our most vulnerable, sometimes we hesitate even more to ask for help, or reach back to our loved ones. It's a weird paradox. But it doesn't stop the love, the emotions we feel, and the desire, ultimately to come home. -- Geoff
Post a Comment