The Calm After the Storm

October 3rd, 2010

Sometimes in the midst of the most turbulent and acute pain, you can find a calm harbor where your mind stops its constant chattering about past failures and past events you can’t change. Tonight that happened for me on the way to a dinner party at an old ¬†friend’s. As I was crossing the bridge to her island home, the sun was setting violently, calling out in a loud pink and orange voice to look, look, look. All day I had been crying, listening to Sarah Dashew sing “What You Owe” and other sad songs, reading old journals and letters and missing my dead love. Sorrow was my “brave companion of the road” today, but I was determined to rise to the occasion of friends coming together to lift me on their shoulders and carry me over this broken part of the road. And the sun went down and the water was calm and I thought, “some¬†day I’ll be okay, not now, not tomorrow, but some day.” And I laughed and drank and ate til late in the night, and the thought of my lost love was always in the back of my mind, but my friends hoisted me on the backs of their love and took me a few feet forward, distance I wouldn’t have to travel alone, on my own.

2 Responses to “The Calm After the Storm”

  1. Friends are a Very Good Thing.

  2. Diane says:

    I am glad that your friends fed you and listened to you and laughed with you. I am mostly glad that you recognize that you have these friends who want you to suffer less and enjoy more. They are in your life right now and that’s worth so much. So . . . you’ve moved a few feet forward. That’s not nothing.

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