It seems you left us on your wintery day. I can only sit here and wonder what kind of courage it takes. Is it courage or weariness? Is it wires crossed or having witnessed too many horrors in one short life? I don't know. Was it the shaking of your bed that bought you to your precipice? I just don't know... But in my own very bones, I know you left. If I had one more conversation with you it would only be to say goodbye. I wouldn't stop you, I'd just want to tell you how much you meant to me. How a warm glow emanated when you passed by. How I saw myself in you. How hard I tried to get you to see that life can move past war. When I read the letters you wrote to your wife I am struck by your insight. You actually understood yourself! What didn't you understand? Of all the people one might wish to drop dead, you weren't one of them. Of all the people I have known I feel a tremendous loss. You lost but I lost too. Something about you felt familiar. You felt li...
mostly gentle, sometimes turbulent