Ambushed
I’d had a couple of good days. Not just okay days, or pretty good days, but good, and I was pleased that I recognized them. It has been awhile. I was doing fine Friday all day, and even thought I had enough energy to go to open mic. I brought the mail in. The mail has consisted of mostly catalogs for the last 3 weeks, so I grabbed the Brookstone catalog, filled with delightful gadgets, and started paging through it.
I got to page 10, and at the top of the page were these watches, Smart Watches that downloaded info automatically–stock quotes, sports scores, weather, even traffic.
It was the traffic one that instantly started me crying, because the city in the sample was his city, the intersection one I’d seen the sign for dozens of times as we tooled around his town, or headed out of town for one of our jaunts. I didn’t even realize I’d memorized them, but the tears rolling down cheeks told me I had. I sobbed for 10 minutes because I turned a page in a catalog, and there he was. A symbol, yes, but nonetheless, the connection was there. Nowhere is safe.
I cried until I thought I was done, wiped my eyes and nose, and then cried some more. Apparently, I wasn’t finished. And then I pulled it together, and went out to open mic and had a nice evening. This is how it will be, I guess. I will cry when I need to cry, and then I will do what I need and want to do. It isn’t an either/or thing. It just is.