Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Inner Workin's

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So this is how it works, when one gets older. You get that phone call. The one where you find out someone you love is sick. And since you haven't spoken to her in over four years --because your husband had a falling out and apparently any relationship building I did went out the window-- and since every elses lives went on as normal (minus us) and since even our own lives went on as normal (minus them), it is a strange position to be in.

Position. The glorious high of reconciliation! The beauty of seeing them again! The hope that perhaps we can interact and engage again. The nieces. The nephews. It has been a long time. We miss them even if they didn't miss us. Maybe they did miss us. Who knows. It doesn't matter. We have missed them. We have missed them.

Position. The horror of the situation. She is really sick. Her family is hurting and we don't know how to comfort them. We don't know how to comfort them. Even if we did, they don't even know us anymore. Not really. There are also other extended family members to deal with. Everyone is grieving. Shocked. Uncomfortable.

Position. Begging the Universe, the Divine Mother, G-d, Energy, whatever...align yourself for Tricia. Please. Please. P l e a s e. Do what you have to do to put her in that percentage that makes it. Her children need her. Her husband needs her. Her brother needs her.

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