I have been looking at pictures of a wrecked van and imagining my uncle being pulled free. Wondering what would have happened if he'd been in the sky instead. My heart is full. Already this weekend it has been full in three ways. Maybe four, if you count the painfully happy sound of the violin my brother and I heard yesterday.
The hood of this sweater has been up all day. Even when I wasn't outside in the rain. I spent three hours in my car. I didn't go anywhere, not really. I left in search of food, found some, and then didn't leave the parking lot. I curled up in the seat and rested my chin on my arms and my arms on the edge of the window and watched the rain add up in the puddles. I listened to NPR and counted rests.
I wasn't home yet when my phone rang and I pulled into the parking lot of a bank and held Egypt to my ear and really wanted to start by asking the hard questions, like and how did you know? It reminded me of why, and why not. And made me wish I had the means to buy plane tickets whenever I want to go halfway around the globe to see for myself.
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