July 16th, 2025
I, again, am so overwhelmed with this experience I spill tears upon my desk. It rains and rains outside. This is a place that never sees rain. I think it may be your tears, witnessing my freedom, and spilling relief over something you feel responsible for.
Grief. I feel it. I think to say “You are not responsible,” but you take on the burden like a dear friend who vowed to look out for me and failed. It’s okay. As I heard before on my father’s deathbed – him comforting an angel – “It’s okay…”