For the past week right into this one, I’ve been preoccupied with skipping a few steps ahead of some something that I wanted to stay ahead of. You know that feeling that you can’t always name that starts nipping at your heels, coming on without warning, until it attaches itself like an unwanted leech. Last evening down just consumed me. I moved through my office like a zombie as I prepared to head home knowing I would climb right into bed and pull the covers up. My body was agitated, felt like it needed constant, continuous stretching. I wriggled around trying to be still; no position was comfortable until I finally dozed off.
This morning I woke having no real thoughts about what I was going to write about today; the text message reminding me of an anniversary answered all the questions. The passing of people at such a young age awakens a sadness in my soul. Most recently, a member of my extended family, two days from now marks one year that a very close friend left us, and it was during this month two years ago that I found out that someone I loved so deeply had taken his life.
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