Death is the worst, but by no means the only form of loss.
Of all the people who have reached out to comfort me over the past few weeks, only a handful know the scope of my Autumn of Loss.
I'm pretty much an open book. It's not hard to get to know me. Of course there are things underneath the surface that remain hidden, but everyone contains multitudes. I am not unique in that regard. But for the most part I'm a pretty simple person. I want to be happy. I want to know God. I want you to like me. That's basically it. And that makes me a person who makes friends fairly easily.
As I get older I realize who I am and who I'm not. I'm not a social butterfly. I'm not someone who inspires action among the masses.
I am someone you'd want to watch "Ed" with. I am a fan of friendships that breathe life into my soul by virtue of their simplicity and vulnerability.
I chose three.
In August, one took his bride to Germany.
In October, the feet of one became jubilant.
Tomorrow, another leaves.
Those few that know how deep this cuts don't say anything, but I know they know. They are the ones with the most tender looks, the most understanding hugs. They refuse to try and make things better with their words. They know that suggesting "replacements" is just salt in the wound.
I'll just let this taper off right..... here.