It's not so much than anything is directly wrong with me. In fact, there have been more than a few moments, instances, in the last, say, week, where I felt reasonably blessed. And that with a very painful knee (much much better today, thank you for asking. I was awake and walking around for at least an hour before I even thought about it.), miscellaneous bleeding bug bites, rashes, swollen fingers, dwindling bank accounts, and the rest. The bright side still had some sheen.
But it is grey today, if less warm. What a trade-off for me: comfortable weather or light. One or the other. Well, at least Cooder came down to walk around today.
One of my close friends is going through some hella-changes at the moment, most confusing, even from my ringside seat. I can feel the pain and the confusion and I have little comfort or advice (well, that might be okay).
I think I am mostly sad about my friend John's mom who is dying of cancer. No matter than she is 92, when someone that central to your life goes, age is irrelevant. John is being stalwart, clear, kind, grown-up, and dear, which, for me, makes it all the more poignant. Perhaps we are such close friends that I can just feel his pain, even from far away.
But many of us are at that age when death is more of a resident than a visitor. And maybe I'm just working on my grieving for my mom, for Cooder, for Tupelo, for Albert (who is ailing lately), still for Carl, and then myself, the myself I failed to become. (Now that is a philosophical concept.)
M lost a friend of 10-years last week. Another close friend of hers got a cancer diagnosis yesterday.
And meanwhile, there are the blossoming lives around us. A moving to Arizona, E going to Berlin. Becky's Landon standing by himself for the first time last night. Susan having her second baby. Hannah and Lyz's twins turning two. Sloan sending out smiles every day.
I know. I know. Cycle of life. Big fucking deal. The ins and the outs. Those transitions can really hurt.
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