The crows are quiet today. Cold air chills the sunshine. Leaves are turning.
A friend is going through a difficult time. His dog, a rescue who was with him twelve years, became sick last Friday night. His friend went into a spasm on Sunday. He was alive but unresponsive. They had him euthanized on Sunday.
"This is harder than I expected," my friend said. He's an ex-marine, forced out because of physical issues from injuries suffered. "I'm having trouble getting over it. I can't seem to think."
His voice trembled. I heard the sniff. I offered to postpone the meeting. He was having a very hard time focusing. He said that he wondered, had he done the right thing? What else could he have done? Was it the right time?
I know his pain. How many of us have not experienced the aftermath of loss, the emptiness of a space, sound or expression?
"Yes, it is hard," I tell him. "It never seems to become any easier."
I felt like Yossarian comforting Snowden as Snowden was dying in "Catch 22."
"There, there," Yossarian said, because he did not know what else to say. "There, there."
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com