Friday, November 20, 2009

November 20, 2009 Hound Dogs

Like hound dogs, sniffing out a sent

my friends come.

"I was thinking about you today. Are you ok?"

I shake my head. They open their hearts.

"I will follow you to the mechanics and the car rental place."

"Can I take Pallas this afternoon?"

I have a conversation with a fellow older widow.

"Jesus Kim! You are only 7 months into this!" she reminds me.

And I inhale the support, my cup spills its water.

And i can stand on the bottom again. No need to tread.

And as I replay the scenes of yesterday in my head, objectively, I am still amazed at how little, how very, very little it takes before I don't care to breath.

Grieving fucking sucks.

1 comment:

  1. I am so glad there was a "happy" ending (if you can call it that) to your challenging day on Thursday. It sounds as though you have been restored. I hope you can ride this wave of support as long as possible. And I hope your friends are there again to revive you when you need it.