Going out, the day after

December 14, 2020 § 2 Comments


It was a cold, gray day in January, 2019.  My car’s mirrors were all frosty white with ice crystal formations.  I turned on the defrost and waited impatiently for the windshield glass to clear.  Looking around, I saw the layer of dust on the console and wonder why I hadn’t noticed it before.

Soon I’m on my way to the market.  There are many parking spaces and I’m surprised that I am already there, unaware of passing time. I had not turned on my favorite podcast and realized that I could not listen to anyone else’s voice.   My thoughts about how sick Steve was played over and over again. I could not shake feeling painfully sad and helpless. There was nothing I could do, remembering that my presence was a comfort, as he moaned softly before dying. I had not anticipated that this is how his journey could end.

I have no words to stop this endless loop of inner dialogue.  I park the car and push myself to get out, thinking about how empty my refrigerator is,  just the same as my broken heart.  I grab hold of a shopping cart and find relief in a familiar action, appreciating the young man holding open the supermarket door.

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