Other Shoe
The other day, my brother Nathan asked me about how I felt regarding our mother's death, whether I was a wreck or felt okay and was wondering when "the other shoe would drop". I told him I did feel okay, and that I fully expected the other shoe to drop, repeatedly, throughout my life.
I had a shoe drop today. I was going over to a friend's house, who turned out not to be there, and trying to think about how I felt about my mother dying so that when she asked me how I was doing I could talk about it a little. Because, truth be told, I feel so much that it's hard to sort through it all and make heads or tails of it.
As I was sitting in the car, looking at a wallet size photo of my mother with Liam, with the gear shift under my hand, I realized that it was my mother who taught me how to drive stick shift. It wasn't far before I was sobbing. I got myself to my friend's mother's house - she happens to live down the street from me and is also a hospice nurse, walked in and said, "I need someone to say 'I know'." Not everyone does, of course. In fact, many people simply don't. And hey, bully for you. But sometimes, I just need someone who does know.
Well, we all need our distractions. Here's one for you:
