Friday, May 29, 2015


Sometimes I fight it (the where I am supposed to be) and then something happens.

Something personal that I most likely shouldn't write about because it's too personal.


I think that's what I'm here to do. Write about personal.

She is not there when I get there so I sit on a bench alone. Then he comes and sits beside me. The he I know by face but not name but genuinely sweet and kind and lovely.  And I don't know it yet but he's just lost his best friend.

She asks, "Are you taking her with you? Or are you leaving her here?"

And tears come down the face of a genuinely sweet and kind and lovely and hard working and just.  you know.

It was heartbreaking because you could feel his heart and you were crushed but not in the good way.

I listened to Kimbrough's Lord Have Mercy on Me tonight.

Today I am grateful to be exactly where I was supposed to be. I am grateful for the ability to reach my arm up and hand out and rub his shoulder and say, "I didn't know. I am so sorry. Good Lord, have mercy." And sometimes I think I am praying for every last one of us to not have pain though I know it always comes with the sincerest of loves and there is no way to avoid it because you cannot not love someone or something and loss of love is

please. mercy. I give up.

And I've got to come back and say this because really, there has to be a fairy tale somewhere. It can't end like that. Surely there was mercy in the memories of that dog walking beside the mule until that last day when she had to ride back with him. Eight years they shared and that feeling, the feeling of sharing love, lives on in us and someone once said something about when a heart breaks it never fully repairs. The scar tissue allows for more surface area. Our capacity for love increases. The mercy is surely in the irony of it.

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