Yesterday was one of my really “bad” days. Sorrow without end. A mental attempt to undo, like the aftermath of a car accident. Why didn’t I take another route? Stop for gas? Postpone the trip?
No. No. No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
But it is. And the enormity of my loss staggers me. I lose my balance. My appetite. And why, exactly, I need to go on breathing.
But breathe I do. Deep and slow. Rhythmic as the ocean. Like the tides, pulled by forces I only dimly grasp.
Dear Mother of God, hear my plea and send me succor for my grief.