I looked at J this afternoon, driving back from the barbeque joint we prefer. I had been saying odd things, like
“How did Vermeer have time to do all the paintings while he was making and selling those wood chippers?”
Comments like that. There were other gems. Then I laid my cards out,
“There’s a circus going on up there in my head. Most days, I’m doing the very best I can.”
Yeah. I’m harmless to myself and others. Still I fluctuate between slightly eccentric or full bore crazy, as in stock up on freeze-dried beef-a-roni and 5.56 mm ammunition crazy.
Tonight I finally had time to remember my friend Franz. He loved opera. I have DVD’s of Lucia di Lamermoor that he recommended, the last two he made for me, the day before he died.
I’m drained. My friend E. had to put her 17 year old dog down today. So I guess I’m thinking back about loss. And grief. And how compassion is free to give away.
There’s other stuff, all negative, about lies, mendacity, deceit, and manipulation. We have to keep going. Maybe there’s someone who needs to know how much you feel their sorrow, rather than how you would fix things, assuming God was going to loan you His Magic Wand.(not that kind).