"There are moments in life, when the heart
is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths
like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt
on the ground like water, can never be gathered together." -- Henry Wadsworth
In what was only my fourth visit back since
graduating, I found myself in Oakdale Saturday for the second time in as
* * * * * *
I've tried writing what's supposed to follow that sentence about five times.
I've come up with everything from something about hugs to a diatribe about
how so many people treat what should be a code of friendship as everyday
bullshit. The former was entirely too sappy to be true and the latter...
Well I have no idea where the latter came from.
The point is that nothing I write seems to fit. I hoping that by writing
about how nothing fit, I might find something that describes it perfectly.
I went down there and I saw my friends. I made sure they were okay. I tried
to make them feel better without trying to make them feel better... Because
when it comes to stuff like this, it's easy to try too hard. I was rewarded
for driving down because seeing them made me feel better, too. As it turned
out, I didn't just want to see them... I needed to be there with them.
I needed to be a part of what they had there. It didn't matter to anyone
in Franklin or Lakeland that Guy had died. But it mattered to me and I needed
to be with folks who felt the same.
I'm just on the outskirts of this situation. Sara and the gang in Oakdale
have lost someone that was part of their day-to-day life. I'm hit with deep
thoughts about how short life is. For them, deep thoughts can come later...
For now, their lives have been left with a huge, gaping hole. And I'm still
so very sad for them...
There is nothing more to say. Sometimes
the thoughts and the feelings can't survive the translation to words. Such
is the case today.